Ripples in the Force
by Olorin the Maiar
Summary: This was turning out to be one of 'those' missions. Truly, Harry should have expected it. He was a Potter. Without fail, every mission eventually turned out to be one of 'those' missions. Some actions send ripples throughout the galaxy as a whole. This is a story of one such event.
1. One of 'Those' Mission

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Star Wars. I make no money off of this.**

 **A/N: Hello there! Yes, I am still alive. I apologize to any readers who have been waiting for updates on my other stories. They are now officially up for adoption. Originally, I stopped writing because I didn't have time. I didn't start back up until now because I realized that it wasn't my real life that was getting in the way of my writing but my writing getting in the way of my real life. Writing was an escape from a problem I didn't want to face. It was unhealthy and I knew it. Now, I have reoriented my life and addressed the problem.**

 **I just have to warn you that I am simply writing this to get this idea out of my head. This idea has been plaguing me for, quite literally,** _ **years**_ **. I don't have an update schedule and I won't post new chapters until I am happy with them. I will stop writing again for a time if I find it is drawing too much of my focus away from other more important aspects of my life. I will try not to simply drop the story. If this happens, I will try to tell my readers about the period of hiatus and restart when I am satisfied I can healthily continue.**

 **Please remember, this will only be written in my scant free time. I only ask that, if you like this story, please be patient.**

 **Thank you,**

 **Olorin**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Yep, it's Gonna be One of _Those_ Missions!**

Harry Potter paused to center himself.

 _Breathe in._

He was alone: a single mote of consciousness floating in the warm embrace of the void. All that is-was-will be is contained within himself. In this moment of self-awareness, he is confronted by the paradoxical nature of his own existence: I exist alone, according to my own psycho-perception, yet I am caused to exist.

 _Breathe out._

His consciousness explodes outwards. The self-aware mote which had been so enthralled by the discovery that it actually existed is confronted by the reality that it is but one of an untold number of similar motes flowing onward in an unending cascade of cause and effect.

 _Pause._

There, among the eddies and currents of time-space-causality, Harry finds the deviances in the chaotic flow of individual choices. Certain choices are guided to outcomes which preserve the over-all progression and expansion of reality. In the seeming chaos, there is order. Naturally, the universe would devolve into entropic decay. The guiding hand in the progression of reality could only be attributed to an outside Force maintaining the delicate balance needed to sustain life.

This was the guiding Force which Harry served. The ancients of his species called it Magic and it was what had originally deviated his race away from the base human stock. The Force moved through all existence. It was life and it was death. It created and it destroyed. It was the initial cause which started this cascading awareness-action which he called reality. To Harry, however, the most important aspect of the Force was that it forever strived to preserve that which it had caused.

Jedi Knight Harry Potter's eyes snapped open as his awareness returned on the onset of his next breath. The Force's answer to his unasked question was clear. He was to act. Not now, but soon. Very soon.

The Queen's procession took a few more steps towards him. He could sense the two Human Jedi concealed on the bridge above him: a master and his padawan. There was another presence there too, a semi-aquatic sentient of some sort. _Mon Calamari? Quarren? Nautolan? Gungan?_ Yes, it was a Gungan.

The procession took another step.

NOW!

Harry brought his arms up under his cloak and extended his mind through the Force. It reacted gleefully to his presence, swirling about his consciousness, and lent him its power as it found that his purpose and its own were one in the same.

Harry wrapped his presence around the battle droids who were escorting the Queens party. He clenched his fists, his mind linking the action to his spiritual extension. There was a screech of plastics and metals as the droid's processors, sensor arrays, and communications relays were crushed into mangled balls of scrap.

The knight could feel the surprise of the witnesses ( _"That was quite impressive master." "I agree, Obi-Wan, but that was not me."_ ) reverberate in the Force accompanied by the pleased purr which he associated with the completion of an action it had prompted.

As the Queen's entourage scrambled for the fallen droid's blasters, Harry gently nudged his cloak with the Force to allow himself to be seen and began to walk steadily towards the group from his hiding spot in the shadows. He was surprised to find that it was the group of handmaidens which spotted him first. They shifted slightly to provide a more accurate coverage area for the Queen in response to a new potential threat.

Interesting.

These handmaidens were acting more like an elite brigade of trained guards than the so-called security force which had finally noticed his presence and had brought their new blasters to bear upon him.

This begged a question. If they are trained security personnel, why did they allow their asset to walk around in such eye-catching clothing? They had been given approximately eighteen hours from the beginning of the invasion to the point at which the Queen had finally been captured in the Palace of Theed. He knew this time to be accurate as he had spent the entirety of the time collecting evidence for his former master and her Council of First Knowledge. The elaborate costume only made sense if…

He checked the lines of sight again.

 _Decoy._ There was one handmaiden directly behind the Queen, and yet still within the area of full coverage. It was rather clever. No one would expect such a deception from as pacifistic government as Naboo's. Well, no one who was not paranoid.

Unfortunately for the deception, Harry had just spent over a year commanding one side of a bloody civil war and still had yet to settle his nerves back to their peacetime levels.

This, however, did not matter. He wasn't about to blow the Queen's cover any time soon. It would only make his job that much more difficult.

"Your Highness," Harry addressed the decoy, "I am Jedi Knight Harry Potter. We must get you to cover. There are still droid patrols in the area," He gestured to an alleyway he had scouted beforehand. The decoy scrutinized the street before giving a decisive not to the one who seemed to be in charge of the more visible security forces.

Seeing the Royal party move in the direction indicated, Harry turned back to the bridge. Looking directly at the spot where the Jedi master and his companions were still concealed and gave the chopping gesture which was the Jedi hand-sign for _All Clear_.

It took a moment, but soon the two Humans and the Gungan were at street level, even if Harry did have to cushion the Gungan's fall with the Force.

"I am Knight Harry Potter," he gave the traditional bows of greeting from a knight to a master and his padawan and received the appropriate bows in return, "May I assume you are the Ambassadors sent by the High Council for negotiations?"

"Yes. We are the Ambassadors the High Council sent at the behest of the Supreme Chancellor. Although, can we actually be Ambassadors if we never actually entered negotiations?" this last comment seemed to be more rumination than an actual question, "Either way, I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn and this is my padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and our guide, Jar Jar Binks," he acknowledged each in turn, "I was unaware the Order had any other Knights in this system."

A pulse through the Force warned the three Jedi as they turned in unison towards the direction of a droid patrol approaching them from a cross street.

"I believe," Harry said as he wrapped his presence around the fallen droids, "that we should relocate." He raised his hands and the destroyed droids followed the motion into the air. With a few quick shooing motions, he had the cheap pieces of scrap hiding themselves behind carved balcony rails, stone crenelations, and tiled chimneys. Satisfied with his work, Harry turned back to find a mixed reaction.

Jar Jar the Gungan was openly staring, mouth hanging open. Kenobi was hiding behind the Mask of Serenity taught to younglings back at the Temple, but Harry caught the padawan's surprise in the widening of his eyes. Master Jinn simply fixed Harry with an amused smile and a raised eyebrow. The knight resisted the urge to scratch the back of his head in a nervous gesture. He was never comfortable about people making a fuss over his power. Jinn must have felt his discomfort, for his smile only grew.

"Hem," Harry cleared his throat and immediately suppressed a shudder. That had sounded far too similar to that Hutt of a witch, Umbridge, for comfort, "I believe we should be going, Master," he indicated the alley down which the Queen's party disappeared.

"I'm beginning to have a good feeling about this mission," Jinn said with a nod and started after the Queen.

"Are you feeling alright, Master?" Harry heard Kenobi mumble as he passed, Binks following with his odd swaying gait.

Harry sighed.

This was turning out to be one of _those_ missions. Truly, he should have expected it. He was a Potter. Without fail, every mission eventually turned out to be one of _those_ missions.

He followed Binks, passing out of the line of sight of the street just as the next droid patrol arrived upon the scene, oblivious as to what had happened just minutes before.

* * *

Padme Naberrie was pensive. This whole situation simply didn't make sense. While she did not like to think ill of the dead, there was more to this blockade, this _invasion_ , than her predecessor's dirty dealings and greed. Even the Trade Federation's public excuse of protesting the taxation of trade routes did not make any sense. That excuse would be a direct attack upon their senate representation. As far as she knew, Senator Palpatine had gone so far as to soften the blow to the Trade Federation by introducing tax incentives for trade in the Outer Rim territories into the bill. He was a reconciler, not a revolutionary. This stank of a third party. This stank of special interests. Somebody was pulling Nute Gunray's strings. The question was, 'Who?'

The clatter of blasters being readied drew her attention to the mouth of the alleyway.

Three new figures had joined Knight Potter in the few minutes of his absence: two Humans and one which she thought was a Gungan, despite never having met one of the reclusive race. The Humans appeared to be fellow Jedi. Both wore the distinctive brown Jedi robes similar to those she had glimpsed under Knight Potter's dark and slightly shimmering cloak. Unlike Knight Potter, these two had their hoods lowered.

The elder of the two led the small party forward. It seemed even Knight Potter deferred to the man as he took up a post to the side, keeping his line of sight towards the mouth of the alley clear, but still close enough to join in conversation if engaged.

She drew her attention back to the elder Jedi and used the remaining few seconds of his approach to try to gain some insight into the man. She knew appearances could be deceiving, but it was all she had at the moment.

Human. Indeterminate middle age. Brown Hair. Grey in the beard and at the temples. _Stress? Experience?_ Calm brown eyes. _Kindness? Compassion? Not enough data._ Beginnings of laugh lines around mouth. _Smiles frequently and genuinely due to similar laugh lines around nose and eyes._ Relaxed posture. _Unconcerned of attack or confident in current security?_

Her analysis halted as the Jedi came to a stop in front of Rabe, her chosen double for the day. He gave her a quick bow.

"Your Highness, I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn and this is my padawan learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi. We are the Ambassadors for the Supreme Chancellor."

"Your negotiations seemed to have failed, Ambassador!" While Sio Bibble was a competent governor of Theed, he only possessed a limited amount of patience. It seemed that being marched around his city to show the people of Theed that their government had fallen had used up what little he had left.

"The negotiations never took place," it seemed that Master Jinn's patience had yet to be depleted, "Your Highness, we must make contact with the Republic." Captain Panaka, the current head of her public security detail stepped forward.

"They've knocked out all our communications."

Padme repressed a sigh. Quarsh Panaka was a good man and would defend his Queen with his life, but he was not the most tactically minded man on the planet. When she became Queen, the Volunteer Security Forces were somewhat of a joke. Due to the pacifistic stance of the planet, the majority of the Security Forces never saw any combat. Most of the Volunteers were made up of young upper class heirs attempting to make political connections or meet a wealthy heiress. Anyone of actual combat readiness was usually shuffled into space defense or the garrison upon their moon, which sometimes sees upswings in the production of the illegal drug, Spice, due to its isolation.

One of her first actions as Queen was to dismiss any officer who had participated in the corruption and graft of her predecessor, King Ars Veruna. She had only been left with two choices for the head of the Security Forces: Quarsh Panaka and Gregar Typho. Together, the three had decided that Captain Typho, with his years fighting against illegal Spice miners, would take command with Captain Panaka as his secondary officer. Typho, unfortunately, had recently lost an eye and half of a leg in recent fighting, so she had sent him off-world for military-grade cybernetic replacements and allowed Panaka to fill the leadership role temporarily.

That was a month before the blockade. All in all, Panaka was trying. He was simply out of his depth.

"Do you have any transports?" Padme was grateful to Master Jinn. There was no condescension in his voice, no incredulity. It was stated in such a way that Panaka would not notice his oversight of the obvious.

"In the main hanger. This way!" Panaka gave a hand sign to the other Volunteers, who rounded the group up and began moving.

Padme repressed another sigh. The captain had not even glanced at Rabe for approval before relocating.

It did not escape Padme's notice that Knight Potter shadowed _her_ , not her decoy, as they moved out. Thankfully, in the time it took to reach the hangar, she was able to maneuver herself so that Knight Potter's vigil at her side would not be as obvious. Now he was in situated in such a way that he was in a similar proximity to Rabe.

Captain Panaka halted the party at the interior doors to the royal hangar. Both he and Master Jinn quickly looked inside.

"There are too many of them," Panaka whispered urgently to the Jedi beside him. Jinn simply shook his head.

"That won't be a problem," he turned to Rabe, "Your Highness, under these circumstances, I suggest you come to Coruscant with us."

Padme's mind flew into action, weighing the possibilities.

She could stay planet-side. This was her original plan. It was decided, however, upon the assumption that there were personal ambassadors of the Supreme Chancellor working to force a settlement. She had thought Gunray's invasion was a last ditch effort to force his terms upon Naboo while simultaneously attempting to stall the political process. From what she overheard of the hushed conversation held on their way to the hangar between Panaka and Jinn, Gunray went so far as to try to assassinate the master and apprentice (where Knight Potter came from, she still had no idea). This fact alone sent up major warning flags concerning her fate, should she stay.

Her only other option seemed to be to recapture a ship and run the blockade. While dangerous, she did see advantages to weigh against the risks. Should she make it to Coruscant, there were many political processes she could file to hobble the Trade Federation in their occupation of her planet. While Naboo's pacifistic constitution prohibited her from filing a Writ of Observance for the Trade Federation's unilateral actions against Naboo (the Senate classified these as minor Declarations of Hostilities), she could directly introduce a Mandate of Action to the floor of the Senate as a sovereign Head of State without needing the approval of an investigative committee. Should the vote go her way, that alone would be enough to halt Gunray as the Republic Navy would intervene to stop hostilities between two member states.

Making her decision, Padme squeezed a pressure pad sewn into the lining of her robes. This sent a signal to a receiver hidden in her decoy's headdress to notify Rabe that she wished to deviate from her previous instructions. Rabe would then prompt Padme with a simple statement to determine the new directions from her Queen's response.

"Either choice presents a great risk," Rabe turned to Padme and the other handmaidens, "to us all."

"We are brave, your Highness," Padme knew Rabe well enough to know that her words had the intended effect.

"Then we shall plead our case to the Senate," Rabe gave Jinn a nod of assent, "We place ourselves in your hands," Jinn returned the nod and beckoned Potter and his apprentice towards the entrance to the hangar. From her position, Padme could barely make out their hushed conversation.

"Forty-five droids," Jinn began, "Four battle groups of ten; one corporal droid relay with each group slaved to one lieutenant droid stationed at the royal yacht; two groups at the base of the yacht, one guarding the captured flight crews, and one on roving patrol. Will your earlier trick work again?" Potter shook his head.

"If they were all together? Sure. As spread out as they are now? No. We will just have to do it the old fashioned way. Besides," Padme thought she could make out the shadow of a grin in the dark recesses of Potter's cowl, "I wouldn't want to deprive you and _Padawan_ Kenobi of all the fun, now would I?" Jinn chuckled and Kenobi rolled his eyes with a good-natured smile. Padme could see that there was some history between the knight and padawan that she was missing.

"How thoughtful of you," Jinn glanced around the door into the hangar once more, "Corusca Gambit?"

"We should probably use a Protocol Ruse to get into position, first," Kenobi chimed in helpfully.

"Hmm. It _will_ definitely be stealthier than a frontal assault," Potter agreed, "I can take the flight personnel. We could meet in the middle with the roving patrol."

"My thoughts exactly," Jinn turned back to the royal party, "Your Highness, we have a plan but it will require us to show absolutely no hostility until we are in position."

"And how will we know when we are to act, Master Jedi?"

"The first droid to fall must be the lieutenant droid. It is a direct relay to the command sphere in orbit. We will use a flaw in the programming of the droids to get within striking distance, after which I will destroy the lieutenant. Once I do, whoever among you with weapons may open fire upon the droids." Padme pressed a different pressure strip in her sleeve to denote her assent to the plan.

"I do not think that we should take risks with her Highness's life," snarled Captain Panaka. Rabe, however, did not allow the captain to build up steam and interrupted him before he was able to say something he could regret.

"We must place our trust in the Jedi, Captain. They have much more experience in the art of battle than we," Rabe fixed Jinn with her most piercing stare. The Jedi was unaffected, "We place our lives in your hands," Padme noticed that Rabe had not used the royal 'we' but rather included the entirety of the party in her statement. This nuance, it seemed, was not lost on Jinn. He nodded.

"Knight Potter, Padawan Kenobi and myself shall go first. Next shall be the guards. Behind them will come everyone without a weapon. When the combat begins and there is cover immediately available, be free to use it. If not, try to stay behind myself or Padawan Kenobi. We will deflect away blaster fire which comes your way. Knight Potter will be freeing the captured flight crews."

"Your Highness," Panaka pleaded, "You should not be put in such danger!" Potter stepped forward.

"There are still patrols roving these halls," the cloaked knight explained, "Once the fighting starts, the droids will send out a local distress signal when the cannot contact the command sphere through their lieutenant. It will be only a few minutes before reinforcements arrive to investigate the signal. To prevent their interference, I will be sealing these doors as soon as we cross the threshold. We must have you inside when that happens." Padme once again signaled an affirmative to Rabe.

"Risks must be taken, should great need arise," Padme's decoy glanced at Captain Panaka, "I have faith in the Jedi," she brought her attention back to the Jedi master, "Lead on, Master Jinn."

There was a slight jostling as everyone moved into positions. To Padme's surprise, Governor Bibble relieved one of the security volunteers of an extra blaster and hid it in the folds of his over-robe. She distantly remembered reading that he had spent some time as a security volunteer before entering government service.

Finally in place, the party strode through the partially open hangar doors. Sure enough, as soon as the last handmaiden crossed the threshold, the great blast doors slid shut. The heavy _CLANG_ which signaled the door's lock engaging was accompanied by a soft squelching noise which she nearly missed in the echo of the hangar. Confused, she glanced at Potter just in time to see what appeared to be a thin length of wood disappear up one of his sleeves.

Before she knew it, they were nearing the two droid patrols stationed around her royal yacht. Wordlessly, Potter veered off to their left and made his way towards the group of captured flight personnel. He had only crossed half the distance to his targets when they were finally hailed by the yellow-banded lieutenant droid.

"Halt! Identify yourselves."

"I am an Ambassador of the Supreme Chancellor," Master Jinn explained in his usual pleasant manner, "I am taking these people with me to Coruscant."

"Where are you taking them?" The droid seemed to either have a short circuit in its processor or the Trade Federation used the cheapest Artificial Intelligence that it could find in its battle droids. Padme thought the latter was most likely the case.

"To Coruscant," even the unflappable Jinn's voice held a note of incredulity.

"Coruscant? Uhh… that doesn't compute… uhh… You're under arrest!" With that, the Jedi sprang into action.

In the blink of an eye, Master Jinn had ignited his weapon and bisected the lieutenant with the glowing green blade. Padawan Kenobi, too, had ignited his own blade and began to reflect the blaster bolts which had now begun to fall upon them back at the droids which had fired them.

Padme could definitely see a similar martial style in both master and apprentice. They both seemed to prefer a reflective defense rather than close quarters combat. In her peripheral vision, she could see that Knight Potter preferred quite a different style of fighting. He had, quite literally, leaped into the fray. Vaulting over the closest droid, he grabbed it by its neck and proceeded to use his momentum to spin the grappled droid around, smashing it into its neighbor with a tremendous amount of force.

At this point, chaos had broken out. Padme was quickly huddled with Rabe behind Master Jinn by her handmaidens. The security volunteers had fanned out behind the master and apprentice and were attempting to pick off droids from the group in front of them. Governor Bibble, however, had found cover behind one of the landing struts of the yacht and was picking off droids from the roving patrol, which was now running towards them, with his borrowed blaster. By the time the patrol arrived to reinforce the main force, the aging statesman had winnowed down the group of droids from eleven to five.

Before she knew it, Knight Potter had entered the primary skirmish, seemingly finished with his paltry force of eleven droids. He was a flurry of fists and feet. Padme noticed that very rarely were the Knights strikes aimed to actually damage the droids. They seemed to be primarily aimed at deviating or obstructing the droids line of fire, causing their shots to be directed into the chasses of their compatriots.

Then, just as abruptly as it began, it was finished. The last droid fell to Padawan Kenobi's lightsaber and everyone drew a sigh of relief. A quick inventory told Padme that the gravest injury was to one of the volunteers whose thigh was grazed by a stray blaster bolt.

There was a moment of calm before nearly everyone broke into action. Panaka began barking orders to the volunteers to begin prepping the yacht for takeoff. Knight Potter rounded up the liberated flight crews and began relaying some of the reconnaissance he had done on the defenses the Trade Federation had installed around Theed so that they could make it out of the capitol's airspace safely.

"Your Highness," Padme turned to see Governor Bibble addressing her decoy, "I cannot go with you. There is nothing you can gain by my presence. I will stay and prepare for your return." Padme signaled yet another affirmative to Rabe.

"If that is what you feel you must do, then I shall not stop you. Stay safe, Governor. We shall need your help restoring our people after this tragedy has ended."

Padme decided that Rabe was _very_ good at this. That was definitely something she might have said in her Amidala persona. The Queen realized that she was going to have to by her double something _very_ nice when this was all over in thanks.

With a short bow, the governor excused himself to ready his own liberated starfighter.

Beside her, Padme felt more than heard the yacht's engines purr to life. The mostly inaudible frequencies they produced made her bones itch at this close proximity.

"Your Highness," Captain Panaka drew Padme's attention away from the scurrying starfighter pilots as he addressed Rabe, "we are ready to leave."

Indeed they were. All three Jedi and the yacht's flight crew had already boarded.

"Then let us depart, Captain," Rabe replied as she strode up the gangway, "and pray that when we return, we will have the means to save our people."

Captain Panaka followed the girl he believed to be his Queen into the ship. His true Queen advanced a few steps behind him, surrounded by her loyal bodyguards.

As the gangway closed behind her, Padme couldn't help but echo Rabe's prayer.

'Please, let me be able to save my people!'

* * *

 **AN: I always thought the introduction of midi-chlorians kind of ruined the mysticism of the Force, so I will try to explore some of the mystic aspects of the Jedi Order and how they relate to the midi-chlorians. The centering exercise Harry does is just a little foray into that. If you have any suggestions on the Jedi's mystic side, feel free to PM me. I can't promise that I will respond directly, but I will try to post something in response at the end of my chapters.**

 **Yes, I made Governor Bibble a little more awesome than he appears in the films. Sue me. I did it because I think his beard is awesome.**

 **Can anyone guess Harry's Master? I've left three clues: Female, Council of First Knowledge, a preference for martial arts.**

 **First to get it gets a shout out.**


	2. Conversations over Tea

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Star Wars. I make no money off of this.**

 **A/N: Okay… So… yeah. It's been almost a year. The motherboard of my computer fried and I had been working on the chapter for so long and had rewritten it so many times that I set it aside until I had the opportunity (and funds) to retrieve the file. It was sitting on that hard drive for seven months before I was able to retrieve it. When I got it back, again, I wasn't happy with it and had to rewrite sections of it. At least it is here now.**

 **Olorin**

 **Reviews** **:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I am glad it was liked for the most part. This is just where I want to address some specific points some reviewers brought up.

 **SentinalSlice:** Thanks for the review. As to the invisibility cloak, it will be in the story. Harry is actually wearing it throughout the first chapter and it is obscurely referenced at least twice in passing. While the Hallows _will_ do what they do in canon, they will also have a very special function beyond that with regards to the interplay between the Living, Cosmic and Unifying Force. That will come into play much later in the story.

 **Starboy454:** Yeah, it is going to be a Harry/Padme story and I have a special place in this fic for Master Fay, although not as Harry's master, but she won't make an appearance until the interlude between Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones or the collection of one-shots directly unrelated to the plotline which is bubbling around in my head.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Conversations over Tea**

Padme couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop playing the last twenty-four hours over and over in her head. It seemed like a dream sometimes: the invasion and capture, her rescue and escape into space, running the blockade and the damage to the ship. Now they were limping their way to a gangster-controlled desert outpost in hopes of hiding themselves within the underbelly of the Republic while they attempted to repair their ship. Quite honestly, it almost felt like one of the five-credit romance novels Corde read when she thought no one was looking.

Deciding that there was no use remaining in bed, Padme silently pushed back her blankets and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She hissed quietly as her feet touched the metal floor; it was ice cold. She did not dare activate a light, lest she wake her roommates and they stop her late night wanderings. Instead, she searched blindly with her feet, lightly tapping the floor around her bedside until her right foot came in contact with the leather slippers she usually wore around the ship. She slipped them on with a practiced movement as she donned the simple robe which had been set out for tomorrow's role as a handmaiden.

Gingerly, she wove her way through the tangle of her handmaiden's limbs as she made her way to the door. Normally, they would have slept in the guardroom next door, but that had been lent to their three Jedi saviors for the duration of their escape. Sabe and Eritae had slept on the floor on either side of her bed, Corde had curled up in a chair in front of the (now-locked) door leading to the guardroom and Rabe was sprawled across the entrance to the main hallway. Padme hiked up the hem of her robe so as to not wake her double before she leaned over the sleeping handmaiden to disengage the security protocols on the hallway door. As the door slid open, the soft light from the hallway illuminated the girl who had masqueraded as Queen Amidala for the past day. Padme bit back a giggle as she saw that the normally intense girl was drooling on the blaster rifle she had clutched to her chest like a security blanket.

The real Queen stepped over her cousin and loyal body guard and re-engaged the door from the outside. As the door closed with a near-silent hiss, she heard Rabe mutter something rather unflattering about a gooberfish and rolled onto her other side. She sighed into the closed door. A part of her hated herself for allowing her family to get caught up in this mess. The twins, Rabe and Sabe, were the daughters of her mother's own twin brother and Corde and Eritae were the daughters of her father's elder sister. The five of them had always been close growing up, living only a few streets apart in Theed's Garden District and it had been their idea for the 'Handmaiden Deception', as they called it, after the assassination of King Veruna. She had originally put up a token resistance, but was secretly relieved to have her friends and family close at hand to help her bear the responsibilities of Queen. Now, she couldn't help but feel worse for it.

Turning, Padme walked down the short hallway that ran down the residential deck of the royal yacht to the communal lounge. She hoped that the galley beyond the lounge had been stocked before the invasion. A warm cup of mooja juice was always her mother's remedy for sleepless nights. She thought she could use a little comfort and nostalgia to calm her nerves. When Padme activated the door to her intended destination, she was surprised to find it already occupied.

The unfamiliar figure was hunched over a steaming cup of golden liquid. The young man's unruly tangle of black hair had fallen forward to conceal his face, but Padme could make out the shape of an elongated and pointed ear through his dark locks.

'Definitely not human, then,' Padme thought to herself.

The man inhaled the vapor of the liquid slowly and sat back in his seat with a contented sigh.

Padme noticed that his facial features, while not as noticeably different as his ears, were also slightly foreign to the human species. This was not to say that the girl thought him ugly. It was quite to the contrary. Padme found the near-human rather dashing. The young man's high cheek bones, strong jaw line and aquiline nose gave him a distinctly aristocratic appearance while the faint, but jagged, scar which arched like lightning from his hairline above his left eye gave him a roguish flair.

The young man opened his eyes.

 _Oh!_

Padme's mouth suddenly felt very dry as she found herself staring into the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. To call them green would be a gross injustice. There were countless shades which radiated from away from the young man's pupil like the rays of a fiery sun. No two threads were colored exactly the same and yet many were so close that they could not help but be identified by the same name. Underlying it all, just barely peeking through the hues of emeralds and grass were the most delicate threads of gold.

A soft cough made Padme realize that she was staring. She fought the embarrassed blush that threatened to rise upon he cheeks and hoped that the dim lighting of the galley would mask any slips of her control.

"Would you care to join me, Your Highness?" Padme's eyes widened at the identification and she quickly scanned her surroundings to make sure that no one else overheard the revelation, "I am sure it would be preferable to standing in a doorway until we reach Tatooine," the corner of the young man's mouth quirked upwards in a wry smile and she finally placed his voice. This was Knight Potter. He was a good deal younger than she had thought. At most, he could only be a handful of years older than her.

"Please, Knight Potter, call me Padme," it was a command, not a request, but she accepted the offered chair anyway.

"If you insist on informality, "the knight gave a put-upon sigh, "please, call me Harry." The quirk of his mouth melted into a genuine smile and Padme felt her stomach flutter. The queen decided that she officially _hated_ what puberty had done to her. It had never been this bad with Pablo.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked, indicating the steaming cup in his hands, "I've always found it helps me relax after a stressful day."

Padme glanced over at the dry goods storage locker and rethought her beverage choice. If she was going to have company, maybe the nostalgia of a childhood favorite was not strictly appropriate.

"Thank you, that would be lovely," Padme did think that the soothing floral aroma that the liquid was giving off was rather delightful.

Movement on the counter of the galley caught her eye. A cup had removed itself from a cupboard and filled itself with boiling water from a tap on the wall. A small cloth packet rose into the air from an open leather belt satchel on the counter and immersed itself in the hot water. Slowly, as if not to spill its precious liquid cargo, the cup floated towards the small table until it came to a stop in front of her.

"Thank you," Padme said, blinking in surprise. She took the cup and felt its weight gradually increase as (she suspected) the Jedi released it from his hold. Harry took a sip of his own tea and Padme automatically followed suit…

…and promptly burnt her tongue.

Foregoing dignity, the Queen spat the tea back into the cup and hastily placed it down on the table, not caring that a small portion of its contents sloshed onto the metal tabletop. She could hear Harry chuckling into his own cup as she dabbed at her injured tongue with a napkin from the dispenser on the wall.

"You could have warned me," Padme said, her aching tongue causing her to stumble over her words.

"I am sorry," the Knight neither looked nor sounded contrite, "I had thought it was obvious. The water was steaming and the cup would have been hot to the touch."

Padme looked down at the cup and saw that it was still steaming heavily. She ran her fingertips over its polymer side and found it to be very hot, nearly to the point of discomfort. The girl felt rather embarrassed that she didn't notice it before she had made a fool of herself. She blamed Harry; those eyes of his were too distracting. Desperately wanting to move away from the fact that she had just injured herself due to distraction, she frantically tried to think of something to change the subject with. The first topic to come to mind was something which had nagged at her for the past few hours.

"Why are you here?"

The question seemed to catch the Jedi by surprise.

"I was already on Naboo when the blockade was put in place. My former Master contacted me when Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi were sent to negotiate. She told me to aid in your protection should the negotiations fail. At the time, I had thought she simply didn't trust Nute Gunray, but it seemed her concerns had some merit," Harry shrugged but Padme wasn't fooled. From everything she had heard about the Order, Jedi's didn't seem to just go on vacations.

"But why were you on Naboo in the first place? The Naboo have a warm relationship with the Jedi. We would have welcomed you at the palace, had we known you were here," Harry looked somewhat sheepish and Padme knew she had found what the Jedi had been hiding.

"I was on what the Masters call a 'Meditative Retreat'. I was supposed to find a quiet planet to spend time in reflection away from conflict and politics," Harry shivered, "especially politics. It was simply my luck that I choose a planet on the brink of invasion."

"It sounds like you were being told to sit in a corner and stay out of trouble," Padme said with a quiet giggle, thinking the idea rather ridiculous.

"That's exactly what it was," Harry replied with a slight huff of amusement and Padme felt her smile slide off her face, "Every so often, a Jedi completes his or her mission correctly but there are unforeseen political repercussions. Usually, the Jedi in question is sent upon 'Meditative Retreat' while the Order sorts out the mess. It keeps the Jedi in question from unknowingly making matters worse and gives the Order a handy excuse to explain away his or her absence."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make light of your situation," the Queen tried to backpedal. She hadn't made this big of a gaff since she had asked her finance minister's wife when her expected due date was. In the end, Padme had found out that the woman hadn't actually been pregnant.

"Don't worry," Harry said with an understanding smile, "the Force takes pleasure in making my missions go belly-up in the worst possible way," he paused for a moment, "or best, depending upon who you ask. They usually turn out well, though. You may want to remove your teabag. It should be ready to drink."

Padme blinked at the abrupt change in topic. Looking down, she saw that the water had taken on a deep golden hue and was no longer billowing steam. Following Harry's instructions, she removed the small cloth packet from the liquid and took a tentative sip. When the heavy floral flavor washed over her tongue, tension which had, until now, gone unnoticed lifted from her shoulders.

"This is very good, thank you."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, quietly sipping their drinks. Padme wanted to move on to a different subject, but for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her instincts were urging her to investigate further about the reason for this so-called 'Meditative Retreat'. For some reason, it felt like she _needed_ to know more. Logically speaking, she recognized that it could be very rude to delve into such a subject, but the little urges of her instincts had never led her astray before.

"I'm sorry to bring this up again. You don't have to answer if you don't want to but…" she trailed off trying to formulate the question in the least rude way possible. In the end she needn't have bothered, as Harry asked the question himself.

"Why was I sent on retreat?" the queen nodded, relieved that it didn't seem to be a sore subject for Harry, "Well, the short story is that I was elected as the sovereign monarch of my home system."

Padme slowly blinked as what the Jedi said registered in her mind.

She blinked again.

 _WHAT?!_

"I guess that a more entailed explanation is required," Harry said with a chuckle. Padme could feel the blood rush to her face as she realized that she must have voiced her thoughts in her shock.

"The not-as-short answer is that I was caught up in a civil war in my home system which has been fought off-and-on for forty years. It was mainly contained to a single planet, Earth, but after the leader of the light-side faction was killed, the opposing faction quickly took control of the planetary government and used their forces to launch attacks on the other planetary governments in an attempt to cleanse the system of any they thought _unpure_ ," Harry spat the last word with such venom that it caused Padme to shiver. "I helped band together those planets under attack and the resistance movement on Earth. United, we defeated the insurrectionists and restored peace to the system."

"So they made you king for leading the war?"

"The title is Merlin, actually," Harry said with a humorless chuckle, "but no, they didn't. In all actuality, they did it by accident," Padme raised an eyebrow in question. _That_ was something she had never heard of before, "In the Sol System, heroes are very influential. If you are associated with someone who did something important, even if that someone doesn't agree with you, your opinion carries more weight," Padme opened her mouth to interject, indignant at the affront to her beloved democratic system but Harry held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

"I agree with you. It is a horrible system. That is why both the Order and I wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, one of the planets got wind of this before I was able to leave. They elected me as a figurehead ruler with no real power in an attempt to force me to stay in the system and back their agenda for rebuilding. It wasn't long before the other planets got wind of this and did the same. This would have been fine with the Order as there are other Jedi in figurehead governmental positions," Harry rubbed his face and gave a tired sigh, "The problems arose when someone dug up an ancient law which was still in effect for all the system's governments."

"In the event that one individual united the system in peace, then that person would be a prospective candidate for the next Merlin, a quasi-religious political leader who is considered chosen by the Force to rule Sol and its children. The sages of the various planets meditated and decided, 'Let's make the guy who absolutely hates politics our leader! _That_ will be a great idea!'" Harry had grown more and more sarcastic as he spoke and punctuated his last statement by throwing his hands into the air and letting his head fall back against the wall behind his chair with a dull _thunk_.

Padme stifled a giggle but couldn't stop a smile blooming upon her lips. The Jedi's dramatics, despite the heavy topic of discussion, lifted her spirits somewhat. It was nice that the slightly older Jedi was opening up to her. She could definitely relate to the exasperation Harry felt at political movements. There were days where she, herself, felt like banging her head up against a wall or throwing someone into a fountain.

When Harry had composed himself, Padme saw that the frustration had bled from the Jedi's face. His features demonstrated a relaxed contentment. A small smile tugged at his lips. In a moment of clarity, Padme realized that his dramatics were an act. They were meant to bleed away some of the tension which had plagued her from the beginning of this whole debacle with the Trade Federation.

"The Order smuggled me out of the system before the sages could anoint me, but from what I heard before Naboo's interplanetary communications were cut, the negotiations were becoming…" Harry paused as he carefully chose his next word, "intense."

"Why would this be so much of a problem?" Padme asked, "Couldn't you just bring the issue to the Republic courts? It's illegal for a Jedi to be a sovereign Head of State, isn't it?"

"You're right. Jedi cannot hold sovereign office," Harry agreed, nodding, "There is some leeway in issues of a cultural position, but they cannot wield sovereignty. Not like the Merlins can. The biggest problem with that is that the Sol System is not part of the Republic."

"Oh," Padme's lips moved on their own accord as her mind tried to address all the political ramifications of such an act.

 _Oh, indeed!_

The Republic stood upon a somewhat unsteady tripod of power: the central power of the Republic centered in the Senate; the sovereignty of the planetary governments; and the interplanetary commerce guilds like the Trade Federation, the Banking Clans, and the Techno Union. There were checks and balances in place overseen by the courts, but quite often it was not enough to eliminate strong-arm politics (a fact she was now intimately familiar with). The Jedi Order had stood in the midst of this tripod as negotiators and impartial advisors for thousands of years. While not an official part of the government, it wielded enormous influence nearly everywhere. Even in her small world of Naboo, the Jedi were a prominent standard of peaceful resolution. Padme, herself, had been affectionately nicknamed 'Jedette' by the people when she had visited Naboo's eastern continent during her campaign. It was a word in the local dialect that literally meant 'Little Jedi' but was used to denote a peacemaker and reconciler.

If a Jedi became a sovereign of a system outside of the Republic, it would cause shock waves in the political sphere. The Jedi's reputation as impartial negotiators would crumble. There had always been a jockeying amongst systems and races for Jedi favor in the hopes that someday, should Jedi intervention ever be needed on their behalf, the Order would look favorably on their desires. Padme remembered from her politics tutor that the Senate had long since heavily regulated these attempts. With a Jedi as sovereign of an outside system, there would be a ruthless mad rush to claim favor. It would not be a great leap of logic to entertain the possibility of violence breaking out in the political scuffle. Power blocks would shift and evolve within the Senate as alliances mutate to address this new player in Republic politics. Those in favor with the new system would demand Jedi negotiators in their dealings, where as those who had been shunned by the system would refuse the Order's mediation with accusations of bias.

It would be chaos. The very prospect of such unrest frightened Padme. She took another sip of her tea to calm her nerves.

"Why are you telling me this?" Padme asked as she set her cup down.

It was a good two minutes before Harry answered her. He pinned Padme with a slightly-unfocused gaze which made her want to fidget in her seat. There was an intensity to his stare which caused her to feel as if he was examining her very soul. _Something_ was happening. She didn't know what exactly but there was a heaviness to the air which she had never experienced before. It did not feel intrinsically _wrong_. Much to the contrary, it felt totally natural. It simply felt _alien_ in her neatly ordered world. It was wild, untamed.

The Jedi blinked and the feeling was gone.

"What do you know about the Force?"

"I… Well," the question was so seemingly tangential that it caught Padme off guard, "admittedly not much. Only that to some religions, it is a unifying force which flows through all things."

"A very simple, although generally correct, definition which is common in the wider galaxy," Harry said, nodding, "The Force flows through everything and binds it together. All that exists holds just as much a place within the Force as it does in tangible reality. It always seeks to preserve this flow of life and existence and so guides those whose will is in conformity with its own."

"You make it seem like the Force is alive," Padme pointed out and Harry chuckled wryly.

"Of course it is!" the Jedi stated happily, "You are alive, aren't you? I'm alive. Untold trillions live all across our galaxy and that is still discounting those who live far beyond our own. If the Force is one, and life flourishes within it, then it must, itself, be alive," Harry took a sip of his tea and absent-mindedly floated the now empty cup back to his satchel where it went about autonomously refilling itself, "As of about five minutes before you walked through that door," he nodded at the door behind Padme, "I was meditating in my berth. The Force was quite insistent I get up and make a cup of tea!" Harry said matter-of-factly, causing Padme to giggle at the absurdity.

"I know, right!" the Jedi agreed with her sentiment, "When you walked in, I knew the Force wanted you to be informed about _something_. I just didn't immediately know what exactly it was. In the end, I just answered your questions truthfully and waited to see if the Force sent me warnings to stop. It never did, so here we are"

Upon reflection, Padme realized that she had, in fact, driven the conversation into somewhat personal territory. She felt her cheeks heat slightly in embarrassment as she realized how forward some of her questions had been. Had that been the Force? Were those 'instincts' which had driven her into this conversation and had guided her throughout her whole life actually the urgings of the Force?

There was something important here.

"Is everyone guided by the Force? Is there no free will?"

"While the Force may be present in all things, not everyone can feel the urgings of the Force, let alone actively harness it," the Jedi explained, "Even for those with an extremely sensitive connection to the Force, your actions are still your own. One can simply say 'no' to the Force and go about your business," Harry leaned back in his seat, watching Padme intently. He seemed expectant, as if he was watching the wheels turn in her head and was curious as to see in what direction her mind went, "Your questions here may have been guided by the Force, but be assured, _you_ asked them."

Padme mulled over the words which had been exchanged over the past half hour, allowing both Queen and Jedi to fall into a comfortable silence. She finished her tea and refused his silent question of another cup with slight shake of her head. Harry had been accommodating so far, but she knew from her time in politics that the sometimes the most honest answers were drawn from abrupt changes in the flow of a conversation. She wondered what the Jedi's reaction would be.

"What if I don't believe you?" Padme asked, receiving only an eyebrow raised in question as a response, "What if I don't believe that the Force guided my actions tonight and that is simply a figment of your religion?" The Queen made sure to keep her tone polite and curious so as to not make her question sound like an accusation rather than the curious query which it was.

Harry seemed to look through Padme as he thought about how to respond. She felt the air grow heavy again. It was not nearly as overpowering as before, but it was still noticeable.

"I could show you."

"What?" the question was asked before her brain could catch up to her confusion.

"I could show you what I experience when in contact with the Force," Harry explained, "Then you could feel what I feel and then decide if the Force is at work in your life."

Padme opened her mouth to reply. What that reply was, she didn't know. She did know, however, that she probably say _something_ in response to such an extraordinary offer. The words never came, as Harry held up his hands in a placating gesture to stymie her quick response.

"I don't need an answer now. This is not something to be taken lightly, "he advised, "My mind would come in contact with your own and you would have to willingly allow me entrance. Your mind would be in my hands to do with it as I will. Your trust in me must be complete and we only met a few hours ago. Wait until we have liberated your planet and then give me your answer," Padme nodded in response, thankful that she had time to mull the offer over. She rose from her chair and Harry mirrored her rise.

"Thank you for your offer," she spotted her empty cup on the table and picked it up, "and the tea," she added as an afterthought.

"You're very welcome, your Highness," the Jedi replied with a small bow.

"Your Highness," she replied back, dipping into a short mock curtsy.

The Queen heard his quiet chuckle as she placed her used cup in the sanitizer. She had just touched the door release to leave when she heard the Jedi's voice again.

"Goodnight, Padme."

She twisted slightly so she could look back at the man and was struck, yet again, by how handsome the Jedi was. Her stomach promptly renewed its earlier squirming.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said, making a quick retreat to hide her growing blush.

* * *

Harry shook himself as he felt the heavy pressure of the Force leave him. Master Yaddle had always called these instances when the Force seemed to take hold of him and directly cause him to act in a certain way Soothsaying. It did not happen regularly, but the Sooth was not totally foreign to him. His Master had explained that it was a resonance of the Force in those rare few whose lives possess not only destiny but also fate. Most force users have destiny. It was widely accepted that it was specifically for this destiny that the Force granted the individual their power. They were meant to cause certain events to happen. For those with fate, the Force also acted in such a way to dictate _how_ those events came to be. Soothsaying was the truth of fated action resonating through time. Harry knew that this resonance which he just experienced with Padme, this Sooth, had just initiated a fated action in either his or Padme's future.

The knight had experienced Sooth a handful of times before, usually revolving around combating Voldemort. Then, the Sooth had been resolute, firm, almost violent. It was a bulwark against which Voldemort's dark forces would crash, protecting those who sheltered behind it. Those Sooths had always left an aftertaste of fear and foreboding in Harry's mind, not for himself, but for the lives which would be lost in the inevitable conflict.

For the first time, however, Harry felt a Sooth that was happy, joyful. Whatever the Force had just caused in their lives, only good would come out of it. It was a new experience. He basked in the happy calm which followed this Sooth, closing his eyes and slipping into a quiet meditation.

It was only fifteen minutes after Harry felt Padme fall asleep that he felt a familiar mind flare into consciousness. Coming out of his meditation, he smiled at Obi-Wan's general state morning grogginess and moved to prepare both a cup of caf for the partially awake padawan and a new cuppa for himself. He had just placed the cup down in from of the chair previously occupied by Padme and reseated himself when the galley's door hissed open and the sleepy Jedi shuffled into the room.

Silence filled the room as Obi-wan seated himself and sipped his drink. It was only after he had drained the cup of scalding liquid and retrieved a second cup from the percolator had been set up over one of the induction coils installed into the galley counter top that Harry felt it safe to speak without having his head bitten off by a half-awake Jedi.

"So," Harry began in a crisp upper-level Coruscanti accent favored by so many of the more up-tight Masters in the Temple, "if it isn't _Padawan_ Kenobi," said padawan gave him a solemn nod in acknowledgement.

"Sir Midget," Obi-Wan returned. The two Jedi stared at each other for a minute before both men lost their composure and began to chuckle.

"How are you Obi-Wan? I see you've had some work done," Harry tapped his nose in acknowledgement.

Indeed, Obi-Wan had had reconstructive surgery. Gone was the horribly broken nose which was the result of their initial meeting and the event which led to their friendship. When Harry had been six and Obi-Wan ten years of age respectively, the older youngling had been given a punishment (what for, Harry never had found out as it seemed to be somewhat embarrassing for the elder boy) requiring him to assist with the Harry's first hand-to-hand self defense class. Obi-Wan had been an arrogant little nerf-herder when 'assisting' the younger children and Harry had taken offense. Eventually, when it came for the practical portion of the lesson, Harry had ended up flinging the older boy face-first off the training mats and onto the unyielding wooden floor. The act had shattered Obi-Wan's nasal septum. The lesson was overseen by Master Rancisis who, being a of a mainly cartilaginous species and somewhat ignorant of human biology, had forbid Obi-Wan from getting it set so that the broken nose would be a constant reminder of the need for humility. Both Harry and Obi-Wan were ordered to clean the training salles together for the next month and struck up a friendship. The rest was history. From that point onward, they were practically inseparable when they were both present at the Temple. Harry had always thought of the broken nose as a testament to their friendship. He was almost sorry to see it go, despite the fact that it always gave Obi-Wan horrible nose bleeds whenever his nose got too dry.

"Master Qui-Gon got it fixed on Ord Mantel," Obi-Wan explained, "He was tired of me having to wear an atmo-hood with a humidifier attachment whenever we went to dry-climate planets," he shrugged, "It's nice not to have to deal with the bleeding anymore," the padawan took a sip of his cup of caf and _hmmed_ in pleasure.

"Soooo," Obi-Wan drew out the word as he always did when he was preparing to ask about something which he was dying to know the answer to, "you're a Knight now?"

"Yes. I am," Harry played dumb and smiled into his cup of tea as he took a sip.

"At eighteen?"

"Seventeen, actually. I was knighted a few months ago," the knight corrected. The padawan across from him sighed.

"You can never do anything normally, can you, Harry?" A roguish grin was his only answer, "What happened? I assume that your trials were accepted by the council retroactively."

"You remember that I told you that Voldemort, the Darksider who killed my parents, was still alive, right?" at Obi-Wan's nod, Harry continued, "well, he regained a body when I was fourteen and the government adamantly refused his existence until he personally confronted me in one of the primary government buildings a year later. After that, there was planetary guerrilla warfare for another year until the leader of the Light faction was killed and the planetary government quickly fell after that and the Darksiders used the Terran navy attempt to genocide the other races of the system. I gathered an opposition force and after yet _another_ year of fighting, I was able to kill Voldemort and their forces fell apart." Harry knew that Obi-Wan would see that he was hiding a lot. The padawan was one of the most perceptive people he knew. It was a few moments before Obi-Wan spoke.

"How bad was it?"

"One point seven," was Harry's response.

"I… What?" Obi-Wan said in confusion.

"One point seven billion sentients lost their lives."

Obi-Wan's cup of caf slipped in his hand and he scrambled to catch it before it spilled into his lap. The padawan set it on the table with slightly trembling hands.

"How?" he started, "We would have sensed that. Force! _Everyone_ would have sensed that."

"When Voldemort overran the Terran government, he gained control of the System's ancient force defenses," Harry explained, "with those controls, he shifted the system fully into the Cosmic Force. To those outside, we simply ceased to exist. For those inside, we were totally alone. Our perceptions in the Force seemed to halt at the very edge of the system. Only those keyed into the defenses by Voldemort could pass the edge of the system. He wanted to cleanse his home of those he deemed unworthy before he moved on to the rest of the galaxy."

Obi-Wan seemed to be at a loss for words as they devolved into an uneasy silence, quietly sipping their drinks. Harry could see the wheels turning in his friend's byzantine mind. The padawan seemed to have come to the conclusion that this was much to heavy a conversation for the present time so he changed the subject.

"I was on Illum last year, and the archive masters..." Obi-Wan began.

"Illum?" Harry interrupted, "Why were you on _Illum_ again?" the Knight saw the light embarrassed flush on his friend's cheeks and barked out a laugh, "You lost it again! Mr. 'A-Jedi's-weapon-is-his-life' _lost_ his lightsaber again."

"I did not _lose_ it. I still had all the pieces," Obi-Wan winced as Harry laughed at his slip of tongue. He cleared his throat, "I was saying, the archive masters said that you _still_ had not gone to build your lightsaber. I inquired if they knew if you had gone to a different temple for a crystal and they had told me that you hadn't. Instead, they seemed exited to inform me that you had registered an artifact as a primary weapon. Sooo…" he held his hand out to Harry.

Chuckling at his friend, the knight unclipped his saber from his belt and placed it in the beckoning palm.

Obi-Wan almost dropped it, expecting the saber to be of a similar weight to his own.

"It's so light!" the padawan exclaimed. And it was. The ancient saber weighed about a fifth of what the typical tool of the Jedi weighed.

The hilt within his friend's hand was _old_. That was the first thing Harry himself had felt when he had picked it up just over five years ago and he was sure that Obi-Wan could feel it now. The padawan's fingers ghosted over the weapon, taking in its unique appearance. He paid special attention to the faintly glowing red gem set into the pommel where the magnetic belt clip rested on his own lightsaber and the name emblazoned in electrum down the grip: GRYFFINDOR. Obi-Wan tapped the rigid cross guard.

"Was this modeled after the old sabers designed to prevent Cho Mai?" he asked, using the term which described the removal of the opponent's hand, "I heard that they were notoriously hard to handle due to their propensity to burn their owners. This would definitely fix that."

"Actually," Harry said, shaking his head, "I think it was the other way around. This predates the Cho Mai guards by a great deal. The lightsaber mods only started appearing after the Sword of Gryffindor made it into hands of a Jedi for the first time," Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, impressed. He went back to examining the sword.

Harry hid his smile behind his tea as his friend's expression became increasingly perplexed.

"How do you turn it on?" the padawan asked suddenly, "I can't find an ignition switch."

"It's a force artifact, Padawan Kenobi," Harry said in his best expression of Master Nu, the one Jedi who Obi-Wan had the least patience for, "Use the Force!"

Said padawan shot his friend an unamused look but prepared himself to do just that. He held the hilt over the center of the table, pointed towards the ceiling. Harry felt the other Jedi collect himself and brush the artifact with his mind.

Obi-Wan gave a sharp yelp and quickly dropped the saber.

"It _bit_ me!" he exclaimed, bringing a hand up to massage his temple, "You knew this was going to happen," he accused his laughing friend.

"I suspected, but I didn't know for sure," the knight explained, "That was one of the mildest reactions I've seen from the blade; it actually killed a Darksider who tried to use it against me once."

Obi-Wan's gaze flickered back and forth between Harry and the Sword of Gryffindor in horror.

"You knew that it had killed people and you still let me try to activate it? What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Oh, don't be such a youngling!" Harry retrieved the fallen hilt from the table and reattached it to his belt, "Unless you turned into a psychotic darksider in the past five years and were currently planning my murder, you were fine."

"I had forgotten," Obi-Wan said, his head falling into his hands, "how unbearable you could be sometimes."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Harry said, slightly indignant.

"Oh," Obi-wan leveled his glare at his friend, "It is! Be sure that it is. Between you and Master Qui-Gon, I pray that the whills get us all out of this mission alive."

The Force seemed to take delight in Obi-Wan's misery, for it was at that moment that the door to the galley hissed open and said Master strolled in, fresh-faced and smiling.

"And why would this mission go anything but smoothly, my melodramatic padawan?"

Obi-Wan let his head fall to the table with a _thunk_ and a groan.

"We're doomed!"

* * *

 **A/N: Sooo… Harry's Master was Yaddle. At the time, I thought someone would get it, but I guess it was rather obscure. Nothing in the Wookieepedia directly corresponds with my clues, but if you knew the character, every clue I gave would at least make sense and be extremely plausible. I guess I had been fascinated by the character for so long that I built up a back story in my mind far beyond the canon (or** _ **Legends**_ **now)… Sorry… but not really.**

 **Also, both of Harry's sections in these past two chapters have been somewhat brief as compared to Padme's. I didn't mean for it to turn out that way, but it is what it is. Harry's section in the next chapter will be longer. I have a lot more planned for him. I just thought, as we are winding down the events of the initial invasion and Padme really is the one most invested in these events, that her development should get some preference to Harry's. In** _ **Phantom Menace**_ **, they really don't develop her character past the little blurp on Tatooine and even then, we only see her while she is trying to disguise herself. We never really experience the girl who was elected to rule her people and thrust into a conflict in which her decisions could cost the lives of her people.**

 **Next stop, Tatooine!**

 **Olorin**


	3. Scion Spycraft

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Star Wars. I make no money off of this.**

 **Reviews:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

 **Thanasi:** Yep, we are going to have a lot of fun over the Ruusan reformation and Jedi sovereignty in Book 3. Yaddle originally died right before Attack of the Clones absorbing a chemical weapon on Mawan. She was considered one of the best lightsaber duelists in the Order when it came to Ataru and was right up there with Yoda. Guess what form Harry uses? That is going to be a pain to write well, but it's going to be awesome. Originally, I had a plan for Thrawn but nixed it in favor of moving the Sol system to the other side of the Galaxy simply for convenience. Your review, however, brought back that Thrawn idea with a vengeance. So, as of right now, he will be back in, but not until Book 3. (I just realized how big Book 3 is getting in my head.) Hopefully it will be worth the wait.

 **Wolfd890:** Yes, HP canon is modified in this story, but only to the extent to fit into the Star Wars Universe in which Harry begins his Hogwarts career as a Jedi. Dumbledore gave Harry to the Jedi to raise instead of the Dursleys. Due to their unique connection to the Force, Harry's race must get specialized Force training almost exclusively offered on Terra (Hogwarts). Yaddle and Yoda are (House) Elves from Mars (I've been waiting to use that 'little green men' idea for a _long_ time). Yaddle took Harry as a padawan just before his eleventh birthday and tutored him in Jedi subjects while he attended Hogwarts. Harry just passed his eighteenth birthday (he actually celebrated it while on Naboo before the invasion). In canon, Padme is fourteen. I'm making it so that her birthday will come just after the liberation of Naboo, so the age gap is just over three years. This seems much more reasonable to me than the five year age gap between Anakin and Padme.

 **Plot Bunnies:** Yes, Earth is firmly within the Star Wars Universe. There will be no inter dimensional travel. The whole ancient force protections of the Sol System and moving into and out of the Cosmic Force was my attempt to explain the Fidelius Charm in terms of the Force.

 **Jslee102:** Yep, Anakin is mentioned in this chapter. We will meet him in the next one.

 **Raven Marcus:** Nope, Harry isn't an elf. He is actually of a somewhat canon race (Legends) which is never named. Jedi Master Fay belongs to this race and I am making this what the Wizards and Witches who were left on Terra mutated into over the hundreds of thousands of years since the human exodus (more on this to come).

 **Comodo50:** Some of your answers are contained above regarding Harry's backstory and the magic/force usage. The Sol system is in the Unknown reaches on the edge of the republic, but is on the far side of the Deep Core of the Galaxy and as such been extremely difficult to reach unless you know exactly where to go. I know it doesn't match up with our place in the solar system, but I have to make concessions for the sake of the story.

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 **A/N: About Reviews!**

 **Please note that I will be removing guest troll reviews. If you have something negative to say, please say it constructively and have the decency to stand behind your words instead of hiding behind a guest moniker. If you don't like the story, that is your opinion but show that it is actually your opinion. The culture of anonymity on the internet has given rise to trolls and has affected those who seek this platform as a positive outlet for creativity and a way to improve our writing. If I can stop some of it, I will.**

 **I will say it plainly: Trolls are not welcome here.**

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 **Chapter 3: Scion Spycraft**

The metaphysical itch was driving Harry crazy. It grated against his Force sensitivity with an almost oppressive need. The Jedi wanted relief. He _needed_ relief. The Force demanded it. The problem was that he simply couldn't find the source of the itch to relieve it.

There was a young _powerful_ Force sensitive somewhere in Mos Espa that desperately required training. The problem was that Harry simply couldn't find the child. The youngling's force signature was _everywhere_ in this city. After being reassured by the Force that Padme would not be harmed in his absence, he ventured out on his own to find a lead on the potential youngling. There were a few places in the wealthier area of the city between the main gate and the Starport which held a slightly more concentrated saturation of the child's power (mainly lower-end junkers and robotics shops) but the further Harry ventured into the poorer sectors of the city, the stronger the child's presence became. He had come upon a parts shop on the far side of the Starport which practically blazed in the Force. The shop was closed at the time, but after making inquiries at the general store across the street, he found it to be owned by a Toydarian named Watto. He also discovered the identity of the one who he was tracking: Anakin, Watto's slave.

Asking around, the Jedi quickly found that nearly no one bothered to learn much about the slaves which were the backbone of this city. Harry had only learned of Anakin's name from the shopkeeper's young son. The young slave had sometimes played with the five-year-old before he made his way home in the afternoons before the father had gotten wind of it and drove Anakin off. Unfortunately, there was no one who could tell Harry where the boy lived. The closest he got was one patron of the local cantina's grunt of, "Kriff off! If'r you lookin' fer slaves, go ta tha Slave Quarter. Them _chssk_ ain't welcome here!"

It was for this reason that Harry was wandering the Slave Quarter. The boy's presence was so strong here that he couldn't place the boy's residence. It was somewhere near the center of the dilapidated district but the further he journeyed into maze of hovels, the more lost he became.

"Oh dear!"

Harry turned at the quiet exclamation to find an old woman straining to gather fallen pallie fruit from the ground around her small stand. An overturned basket next to her seemed to be the culprit of her current situation. Thinking he could use distraction from his aimless wanderings, he stooped down to help the woman.

"Here, let me help you, Grandmother." The woman jerked in surprise and looked over to Harry as he bent down to gather her errant produce.

"My… aren't you a bright one! And such manners… Thank you, young man," Her words brought Harry up short.

Bright one… That was a phrase he knew intimately. His master had drilled that phrase, along with rest of the Jedi Intelligence passphrases into his head at an early age. It could have been a coincidence, a slip of tongue, but he didn't think so. Harry could feel the slight purr of the Force underneath the oppressive itch of Anakin's power. This was a Jedi Scion.

The Scions were former padawans who either failed the Trials of Knighthood or voluntarily joined one of the Service Corps after not being chosen by a Master for padawan apprenticeship. The Scions were usually chosen from among those padawans with the lowest Force sensitivity. They were trained as intelligence operatives and given the integral task of being the Jedi's eyes and ears in those places where Jedi Watchers were not welcome. They were often inserted into societies rife with those who operated within the shadows of the Republic: crime lords, murderers, drug dealers, and slavers. Their low Force sensitivity gave them somewhat of a buffer to falling to the dark side. In all honesty, they could blend in easier than most fully trained Knights and quite often could deal with situations which could cause the average Knight to fall. Many Knights who knew of the Scions' existence looked down on them, but not Harry. Master Yaddle had taught him that knowledge was power and without the vital role the Scions played, the Order would have lost much of its own power long ago.

"Knowledge passes from those who come before. If I am bright, then it is only a testament to my teachers." Harry gave the proper response to signal that he had upper-level Intelligence clearance and the old Scion gave him a wide grin. She took the fruit from him, plopped them back into the basket and rose from the ground with much more grace than she had previously shown.

"So, what can old Jira do for you, Master Jedi?" Harry's eyes widened at the blatant breach of protocol and quickly made a sweep of the street with his senses. Apart from a few people in the various apartments along the street, they were alone.

"Please, Master," Jira said as if speaking to a child, "I have been doing this longer than you have been alive. I know when I am alone with an asset. Besides," Jira reached into the folds of the shapeless brown outer wrap she wore and removed a sleek metallic box. It was a top of the line short-range signal jammer and probably worth more than a slave would make in a decade, "I took precautions," she explained with a smirk. Harry chuckled.

"My mistake, Jira. I bow before your wisdom," he did indeed bow to her and the old crone cackled.

"What is the galaxy coming to? A Commander of Jedi Intelligence bowing to an old wash-out like me?" she wagged her finger at Harry, "You sir, are a flatterer."

"Maybe, but I'm not a Commander," her jovial expression dropped in the blink of an eye only to be replaced by suspicion and steely determination. Harry couldn't blame her. Those pass phrases were a closely held secret of the Scions. Only active members of Jedi Intelligence were supposed to have access to them.

Harry heard the distinctive soft click of a blaster's safety being disengaged and looked up to see the muzzle of said blaster rifle pointed at him through the curtains of a second-floor window of the building behind her. He slowly and subtly raised his hands in acquiescence to the threat. It appeared as though he shouldn't have discounted the residents of the apartments after all.

"I was the Librarian's apprentice. I was exposed to enough during my apprenticeship that she gave me the clearance. I'm…" Harry cleared his throat. He hated his code name but it had been Master Yaddle who had come up with it and was his official Intelligence moniker, "I'm Dumb-Luck."

"Huh," Jira flicked her fingers in a seemingly innocuous gesture and the blaster barrel disappeared from the window, "I though you would've been taller."

The old Scion picked up her basket of fruit and gestured for him to follow her. With practiced ease and perfect balance, she led him up the steep narrow staircase and into the apartment from which the blaster had emerged.

When the deceptively sturdy door closed behind Harry, Jira pecked a few codes into an old console built into the wall and he felt more than heard a dampening field spring into being along the outer wall of the home. Gradually the sounds of the outside world dampened into a general hush of static white noise. When a low frequency beep was emitted by the console signaling (Harry suspected) that the field was in place, Jira rolled her shoulders and straightened. Gone was the façade of an old grandmother and in her place was a seasoned intelligence operative. She plopped her basket of pallies down by the door and removed her outer robe, placing it on one of the hooks beside the door. Beneath, she wore spacing leathers. Her many pockets seemed to be filled with the various tools of her craft. Harry spotted the frequency jammer she had shown him peeking out of her right breast pocket in addition to a standard Intelligence-issue manual lock pick set, an auto-slicer, and a rather wicked looking vibroknife hanging from her belt. This was, of course, in addition to the DL-44 Heavy Blaster slung in a holster over her right hip.

"Yasin!" Jira hollered down the narrow hallway now that the dampening field shielded the home from any outside surveillance, "Put the kettle on. We've got a guest," she paused a moment in thought, "and use the good tea, not the usual _chssk_ you try to pawn off!" Without a backwards glance, she started off down the hallway. Harry stood in the doorway, blinking for a moment at his blatant dismissal as a threat before shrugging and removing his somewhat stifling disguise.

While Tatooine's cities seemed to be a mishmash of races from the surrounding systems in addition to the seemingly standard galactic human population, he had found that even in smuggling hubs like this one, people always seemed to be conscious of anyone new. As the Sol System and her colonies were, quite literally, on the other side of the galaxy, he knew that a Ma'jaii walking down the street would be remembered, despite his race's close proximity to the baseline human population. It was usually the ears and the eyes which gave them away. So Harry had swapped out his Jedi robes for his old day-to-day spacing leathers from the war which he kept in his expanded belt pouch. He had wrapped his head and face in a rough piece of scrap cloth and finished his disguise with a pair of tinted pilot's goggles. Apparently, he had chosen his disguise well because he had passed at least three people similarly garbed and had only gotten suspicious looks when he began asking after a specific slave.

Hanging his facecloth and goggles on the hook next to Jira's robe, he followed the old operative into the apartment's communal area.

To Harry's immediate left was a cluttered workbench strewn with various bits of servos and circuit boards. Beyond that, occupying the corner of the room was a small a small kitchenette. A slim Zeltron male (whom Harry assumed was Yasin) occupied the cramped space facing the wall as he made them the aforementioned tea. Beyond the kitchenette in the corner opposite to the opening which he was currently occupying stood three doorways. All three were currently closed with sturdy durasteel security doors similar to the one at the front of the apartment. A battered couch stood along the wall between the doorways and an ancient loom which was set up in the final corner of the room next to a battered humanoid mannequin. Bolts of finished fabrics in a number of muted colors leaned against the antique.

All in all, there was nothing which said that there was an intelligence operative in residence, but Harry didn't expect there to be. A sloppy spy was a dead spy. Instead, Harry reached out with the Force to confirm Jira's identity. Information could be stolen, even from spies. There was but a single hallmark of the Jedi Intelligence service which could not be faked. It had a long scientific name which only appeared in official reports, but everyone who actually used it just called it 'Force Glue'. It was simply powdered kyber crystals suspended in a thin glue. This alone would be relatively simple to recreate. As each batch was made, however, it was impregnated with the force signature of Master Koyt, Jedi Intelligence's quartermaster. The signature was faint enough that those who did not know of its existence would simply dismiss it as the natural background force presence of the environment. The result was a useful tool which could only be identified by a force sensitive who knew what to look for.

Harry swept the room carefully with his mind even as Jira beckoned him over to the small table of the kitchenette. He found four signs painted using Force Glue. The first two meant 'Weapon', meaning anything from a vibroknife stuffed between the cushions of a sofa to military grade surface to air missiles. The Jedi highly doubted that they had the latter stashed around the house, but it was highly likely that they had blasters stuffed in the light sconce near the trio of doorways in the corner and the large grain storage bin under the counter of the kitchenette on which the symbols had been painted. 'Medic' was painted on the metal board above the workbench on which hung basic small-machinery repair tools. Harry suspected the board swung outwards to reveal a hollow wall and one of the Jedi Intelligence emergency triage kits. The last sign was 'Escape'. It always denoted a non-standard escape route which had been created by Intelligence operatives. This sign was painted under the rug on which the loom sat. The knight assumed that there was a hatch there which led to safety, should the apartment be breached.

Harry took the offered seat at the small table just the Zeltron male turned to place two teacups on the table, a third waiting patiently on the counter for a free hand. The barely noticeable pause before he set the two cups before Harry and Jira was a testament to his training that he was barely phased by encountering a new species (Harry knew the odds of the Zeltron encountering another Ma'jaii was astronomically high).

"Well, hello there," the pink-skinned man purred, offering a fine-boned hand for Harry to shake, "Yasin L'erx. It's a pleasure."

Harry took a breath to reply and sneezed violently… and again… and a third time. By the fifth sneeze he was able to fish a handkerchief from his belt pouch and hold it to his running nose and watering eyes.

"Ber'mones," the knight was able to wheeze out, "Aler'ic ta ber'mones!" Yasin's eyes widened in surprise and Harry felt the pheromones in the air decrease dramatically. He reached out to the air around him with his mind and pushed it away from him. The wind the action created was rather noticeable as the majority of the air had been pushed back at the Zeltron. The man had to take a step back to balance himself and his formerly perfectly styled blue hair now closely resembled Harry's own bird nest.

Harry blew his nose and wiped the remaining tears from his face.

"Thank you," he said and Yasin gave him a sheepish shrug.

"Sorry?" It was more of a question than an actual admission of sorrow.

"No, you're not," Jira accused. She took a sip of her tea, immensely amused at Yasin's situation if her smug smirk was anything to go by, "You're miffed that one of your grifts actually failed."

"One time!" Yasin countered, indignant, "And this doesn't count. It was a physical reaction to my pheromones. It would have happened to any Zeltron. There was _nothing wrong_ with my grift."

"Aaannnd," Jira seemed to be making this a lesson for the younger Scion, "your mind trick failed. Subtle, it may be, but against a force sensitive worth his water, it doesn't do squat. If the grift is sound, you won't need anything else." Yasin's shoulders slumped in a sulk.

"Who are you anyway?" Harry didn't get to answer because Jira did it for him.

"This is Dumb-Luck." Yasin blinked at him for a moment before some of the sulk lifted from his posture.

"Okay, now I don't feel so bad." Harry was confused. He knew that his moniker was in the agent database, but Yasin's tone spoke of a familiarity beyond a simple name.

"How do you two know me?"

"Honey, you're a legend," Yasin's purr was back. It seemed to be his default setting.

"We're spies, Master Jedi," Jira explained, "We are literally _paid_ to gossip. Intelligence goes both ways. Give and take. The higher-ups get our intel and we get all the public juice on our superiors."

"And some of the not-so-public stuff too," the Zeltron chimed in.

"The Masters are okay with this?" Harry asked and Jira gave a laugh which bordered on a full-blown cackle.

"Please! The Librarian puts together quarterly newsletters for us. Sometimes she has a column just devoted to you." The woman pulled out a small datapad from one of her pockets and typed a handful of codes into it before handing it over to Harry. Sure enough, displayed was an old article giving an overview of the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. Harry felt vaguely violated, "Hasn't been anything for a little over a year, though," she said leadingly. There was a sharp glint in her eye at the prospect of hidden information. Harry shook his head.

"And there won't be," he said firmly, looking Jira in the eye and dropping his occlumency shields slightly so that more of his force presence could be felt by the Scion. He projected the finality of his decision at the human woman.

"That bad?" Jira asked and received a firm nod in response. "That's that, then," she said, glancing at her Zeltron partner, "Isn't it, Yasin?"

The man glanced between both Jedi and senior Scion before swallowing heavily and nodding.

"That's that."

"Good," Jira said briskly, "Now down to business. Why are you here drinking my tea?"

" _Your_ tea?" muttered Yasin but both Harry and Jira ignored him.

"Librarian foresaw a mission going sideways and assigned me for protection," Harry had been drilled relentlessly by Master Yaddle on giving mission reports. No superfluous information, no opinions unless asked for, only the relevant facts, "Damaged our hyperdrive on route to Coruscant and landed here for cover and repairs. The original assigned Jedi are taking care of the hyperdrive. Once I entered the city, the Force drove me to split from my group and find an untrained force sensitive living somewhere around here. I found out my target is a human boy named Anakin. He's somewhere in the Slave Quarter, but his presence is so erratic that it's saturating everything here. Unless I bump into the boy on the street, I won't be able to find him." Jira stared at him, seemingly lost in thought. Yasin just looked confused.

"I haven't felt anything," the Zeltron commented after a few moments but Jira almost immediately waved him off.

"You wouldn't," the old Scion explained, "It's not his natural senses. It's called imposed force hypersensitivity. I've come across Jedi who've experienced it a few times. The Force has a special mission for him and has enhanced his ability to sense the boy for the sole purpose of finding him. The sensitivity should vanish as soon as he meets Anakin. I've been recommending the boy for training in my reports for years, but there have been complications prohibiting his extraction."

"Complications?" Harry asked. What could possibly halt the Order from saving a known (and powerful if what he has been sensing is any indication) force sensitive from slavery?

"Up until about a year and a half ago, he belonged to Gardulla the Hutt."

That would do it. Gardulla the Hutt was infamous for her hatred of Jedi and had racked up a long list of Order affiliated casualties in her almost seven hundred years of life. Multiple times the Order had attempted to bring down her operation and each time, they had failed. The silent war between Gardulla and the Order had calmed into near non-existence about a century ago and the higher-ups were hesitant to do anything which could instigate the reawakening of that conflict. Instead, it had taken to more covert means of resistance, working to undermine her secondary contacts in hopes that a rival would absorb Gardulla's operations and be easier to work with (and against). Last Harry had heard, Jabba Tiure, the head of the small Clan Desilijic had moved his operations to Tatooine and had taken over the northern reaches of the planet, including the small smuggling port of Mos Eisley. The Order was biding it's time concerning the situation.

"About a year and a half ago," Jira continued, "I was able to rig a bet so that Gardulla lost Anakin and his mother, Shmi, to an owner who was known to take relatively good care of his slaves. By that time, the Temple said that he was well past the acceptance age for children with non-standard educations," the old Scion sighed, "I've been trying to keep an eye out for Anikin and Shmi ever since."

"So you can take me to him?" Harry asked, thankful that he finally had a solid lead on the child.

Jira nodded.

"Yep, but it'll have to wait. There's a Coriolis sandstorm rolling in off the Great Dune Sea and unless you don't like your skin attached to your body, you won't want to go out until it passes."

Harry's eyes widened. If that was the case, he needed to relay that information to Master Qui-Gon so they had an opportunity to seek shelter. He rose from the table.

"Excuse me, I need to step outside to make a comcall."

"Let me guess," Jira said with a sly smile, "you're trying to contact the ones taking care of that hyperdrive you mentioned. Big fellow, a Jedi with brown salt and pepper hair traveling with a girl and an aquatic sentient who sticks out like a sore thumb on a dustball like Tatooine?" Harry blinked at her.

"Err… Yes, I was. How did you-" the Jedi was cut off by Jira's laugh.

"They passed by my stall with Anakin about fifteen minutes before you did. I may have overheard that he was taking them back to his house for shelter from the storm." Harry sat back down with a sigh. Of course Jinn, Padme, and Binks would accidentally stumble upon Anakin while he was led on a wild chase around the city hunting for the boy. The Potter luck struck again.

"So, really all I can do is wait the storm out?" Jira shrugged, draining the last of her tea. She rose from the table to place her cup in the sanitizer.

"It's up to you. We've got an encrypted holoterminal if you want to send the Librarian a mission report or you could just take a kip on the couch. We'll be stuck inside for at least four hours. It's up to you," she walked out of the kitchenette area towards one of the three sealed doors in the corner, "I'm going to take a kip, myself," she turned back to them as she activated the door release and the metal door slid into the wall, "See to Dumb-Luck's needs, Yasin, and don't wake me till the storm passes." Jira entered the dark room and the door closed behind her with a resolute _hiss-thunk_.

There were a few moments pause while both Jedi and Scion processed the older woman's abrupt departure.

"So," Harry began, "I take it she's the planetary Scion coordinator."

Yasin snorted.

"You could say that," the Zeltron replied, taking Harry's empty teacup and moving the counter to straighten up and put the kettle away, "She was the Scion commander for Hutt space for thirty years. This is Agent Krayt's retirement."

"Huh, I never would have guessed that _that_ was the infamous Krayt," and it was true. Harry never would have guessed that Jira, the kindly old woman with an undercurrent of steel, was the Scion who coordinated the Jedi's actions within the Hutt empire with such startling accuracy for over three decades. The Huttese Dragon had quite literally written the book on Scion espionage. _Shadow War_ had been the basic Scion primer on spycraft for the past two decades and had been assigned reading from his Master right alongside his Transfiguration homework from McGonagall and Trelawney's dream diaries. Master Yaddle had never thought that he would be a true Jedi Intelligence agent, but the spycraft lessons had been intended to supplement his Shadow training. In the end, Yaddle had (as always) been right and the lessons he had learned from Krayt's book had been extremely helpful when Harry had formally chosen to follow the path of the Shadow.

Yasin gave a rueful chuckle.

"Yeah, she's mellowed _a lot_ in her old age," the Zeltron said, "But believe me, she can be a right demon when it comes to hounding Gardulla. Clan Besadii was the only part of the Hutt government which escaped Krayt's campaign against the Hutts relatively unscathed simply due to the fact that they moved their principle governance to Tatooine and were largely removed from the entangled Hutt politics of the primary region of Hutt space. Gardulla was able to swoop in to pick up the pieces whenever Jira had decimated one of the major clans. She has taken it upon herself to bring Gardulla down. It's why she _retired_ here," Harry could hear the inflection which spun the location of her retirement as less of a place of relaxation and more of an unofficial self-imposed assignment. He chuckled.

"Master Yaddle always said, 'The only retirement a Jedi needs, death is!' I guess it can be applied to spies too," Yasin looked up from the counter he was wiping down with an old rag to give Harry a flat look. The Jedi put up his hands in an exasperated gesture, "In my defense, I can't get my voice that high and squeaky. It sounds much more mystical when she says it," the Zeltron responded with an undignified snort.

"So, Dumb-Luck," Yasin asked, putting down his rag and leaning over the small counter of the kitchenette which separated the main cooking area from table Harry was seated at. The pink man smirked when Harry scowled at his moniker, "should I set you up a holocall, get you a blanket, maybe some _arak_ …?"

"Yes to the first, no to the second, maybe to the third after the call depending on what info Master has for me. I haven't had a mission update for a couple of months. Librarian needs to know the situation so she can have someone start running interference in the Senate." Yasin nodded and moved around the counter to stand in the center of the room.

Harry heard him mutter under his breath, "Alright, I can do this."

Yasin raised his arms towards the loom. Harry felt Yasin's mind jerkily reach out towards the large loom. The mental extension was nowhere as smooth as what he was used to from the other knights at the Temple. It was like trying to force molasses through a straw versus a quickly flowing stream. Harry saw the loom lift a inch from the floor and begin to slowly move off to the left towards the open area in front of the couch. Every so often, it would wobble and knock against the floor. With every _clunk_ , Yasin seemed to become more stressed and tense. Before it had even moved a meter, Yasin body was so strained that Harry could distinguish every rope of muscle in the Zeltron's neck. The Jedi needed to help before the man had an aneurysm. The Jedi placed a calm hand on the other man's shoulder, causing him to flinch in surprise and drop the loom.

"I can give you a hand if you want," Harry offered and Yasin bowed his head and flushed a deep purple in embarrassment. He rubbed his neck in a nervous gesture.

"Ah… thanks. I was always pants in telekinesis. My specialty is the mind arts." Harry nodded.

"Try again, just be calm and don't force it. Let your mind flow evenly."

Again Yasin's mind reached out but it was much slower this time. There was no longer any jerking movements but a slow steady progression outward.

"Now, don't try to attach strongly to certain points on the loom. Instead, spread your mind evenly over the entire surface of the loom. Feel every joint and beam, the grain of the wood," It took a few minutes, but eventually the Zeltron's mind encompassed the entirety of the loom.

"Now, close your eyes."

"But I won't-" Yasin began, but Harry cut him off.

"It won't matter. You have experience in the mind arts. Just feel the loom. You don't need your eyes," Yasin looked conflicted but conceded and closed his eyes.

"Now let your mind sink into the loom. Sense the loom. It is one with the Force, just as you are. It is no different than the minds around you," Harry saw the resistance bleed from the Zeltron's face and felt the man's mind sink into the loom. The Jedi paused his instruction, giving his impromptu student a time to get a true sympathetic connection with the loom.

"Now, the first step is to picture the loom moving in your mind. Don't try to move the physical object yet. See it slowly lifting off of the floor. Ten centimeters, a quarter of a meter, half a meter. Now stop. Gravity does not affect your mind. It is perfectly stable. It moves slowly to the left, steadily off of the carpet to the space in front of the couch. Can you see it in your mind?" The Zeltron's blue eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"I can see it."

"Okay. The next step is to open your eyes and we will make it a reality."

The Zeltron opened his eyes to the sight of the large loom floating steadily a half a meter off the ground in the exact spot he had pictured in his mind.

"I did it," he whispered, unbelieving. An ecstatic smile bloomed across his face and he thrust his arms into the air in victory, "I did it!" he shouted in joy.

The loom came crashing down with a deafening _bang_.

" _YASIN!_ " Jira hollered from her room.

"Sorry!" Yasin yelled back, a smile still threatening to rip his face in two. He turned to Harry, "How was that possible? The masters at the Temple always said that I would never be able to do something like that with my midichlorian count."

"I had the same problem when I was young. I always equated telekinesis with physical strength until Master Yaddle did the same thing with me using that big bronzium statue of Grandmaster Fey Coven in the Archives atrium," Harry didn't tell him that he had been seven at the time and had ended up dropping it and snapping off one of the revered Master's feet but the lesson was the same, "Physical matter never affects the mind. This is what Master Yoda is always referring to when he says, 'Do or do not, there is no try!' In the Force, anything is possible if you simply open your mind to it and have the will to carry it through. When we are one with the Force, we become luminous beings. We transcend the petty limitations of the flesh. It doesn't matter what your midichlorian count is if your mind lives without limitations," at the end of Harry's impromptu sermon, Yasin was hanging off of his every word, his eyes wide.

"Thank you, master," Yasin said with a soft smile of understanding. Harry could feel the Zeltron's mind shedding past doubts and insecurities, only to be replaced with an ember of hope. Harry ran a hand through his hair, sheepish.

"I'm not a Master," Yasin shook his head.

"I don't care about the official title. For what you've given me, you're a Master in my eyes. If you need help, call and I'll be there." Harry knew there was no arguing with the man, so he simply accepted his offer of assistance.

"The holoterminal?" the Jedi gently reminded.

"Ah," Yasin moved into action, pulling back the rug and brushing a hidden switch to release a concealed blast hatch in the floor of the apartment, "down here."

Harry followed the Zeltron down the ladder for what had to have been fourty meters, arriving at a cavern deep in the Tatooine bedrock. It was a large space with a heavy blast door at the end of the room wide enough to drive a speeder though. Said speeder was parked in front of it, seemingly ready for a moment's escape. Along the walls were racks of weapons and machinery some were identifiable, but the purpose of most eluded the Jedi. A heavy holoterminal was set up in the corner beside a rather impressive computer system. Encrypted streams of data were constantly moving in and out sight on the various displays of the computer. Even retired, it seemed that Agent Krayt was still an important cog in the Scion machine. A system like this was usually reserved for an active commander and was a direct encrypted link to the Scion hub in the bowels of the temple. Thankfully, Harry wouldn't have to slice into the network and piggyback the holonet from system to system until he can get close enough to punt the signal to Coruscant.

Yasin guided him over to the Terminal and input a long string of codes to open the connection to the Temple.

"Here you go. The link is open to the hub but you will have to input your own clearances to reach Librarian." Harry nodded and waited until he heard the hiss of the blast hatch resealing, signaling that the Zeltron was truly back in the apartment above. Harry sat himself in the holoterminal's bench and turned his attention to the input screen.

 _ **Welcome to Intragalactic Exports, the Republic's finest market for interplanetary trade. Our interactive system is currently under repairs. Please leave a message and your contact information and a representative will respond promptly. Thank you.**_

Harry stretched his fingers and allowed them to dance over the keyboard.

 _Inception2y9f52Elf072Majaii014Umbra1844Tan773Dumb-Luck_

 _ **Processing request…**_

…

…

 _ **Please wait…**_

…

…

 _ **Access Granted. Please input destination path.**_

 _Librarian02cSatlink497Dumb-Luck04zUpdate_

 _ **Processing request…**_

…

…

 _ **Please wait…**_

…

…

 _ **Uplink verified. Please wait for transmission and connection verification…**_

Harry settled in to wait. Even at transwarp speeds, the signal could take anywhere from one half to three whole hours to reach Terra depending upon the uplink configuration and the solar weather of a few stars the signal path grazed.

 _Ping!_ Harry looked down at the screen in surprise.

 _ **Transmission link connected.**_

Harry blinked. Evidently Master Yaddle was no longer on Terra. Really, this almost non-existent connection time meant that she was back in the Temple.

A small blue hologram sprang into being from the prism inset into the holoterminal. The middle age elf looked no different than she had when Harry had last saw her on Terra.

"Hmmm. Finally remembered your old Master, you have. It is good to see you, Harry," his Master and surrogate mother's squeeky voice was like a balm upon the tension and stress of his first mission as a Jedi Knight. For Harry, Master Yaddle was his home as much as the Temple on Coruscant or Hogwarts on Terra ever was.

"Hello, Master. It is good to see you, too," Harry sighed. There was time for catching up once he got back to the Temple. For now, he was a Knight reporting to his mission handler. He pushed his feelings aside to make his report.

"Agent Dumb-Luck reporting in," the words had had the intended effect as Master Yaddle also gave an understanding sigh and assumed her role as Jedi Intelligence's Librarian, the officer ultimately responsible for the reception, processing, protection, and discemination of all information flowing through Intelligence channels. While she did not have the ultimate executive authority (that lay with Commander Spider and even Harry didn't know the identity of the Master who filled that role), she did have an ear to quite literally _every_ Jedi affiliated mission and activity.

"Librarian receiving," Yaddle fiddled with the screen of her holoterminal outside of the capture radius, making her hands dissapear out of frame. Harry knew that she was turning on the archivist protocols to log the conversation in Intelligence's archives.

"Mission update: Naboo 968-6. Under orders of Librarian, I noted that all interplanetary communications were cut via the Trade Federation blockade on 7.15.968. I proceeded to monitor global atmospheric orbit through an access terminal at the Theed spaceport. Once multiple incoming atmospheric breaches were detected, I used the Jedi protocols to access the standard Republic global defense grid. Because of Naboo's pacifistic constitution, there were no military defense systems active on the grid. I was able to record global entries and the general dimensions and mass of the ships. At the time I was able to theorize that they were the Droid dropships purchased by the Trade Federation from the Techno Union on 3.3.964 as described in the background information I received in my initial mission briefing.

"Ships landed initially at the Naboo provincial capitals of New Centrif, Vis and Parrlay. It should be noted that these are the provinces furthest from the capital of Theed. Word of the cities subjugation came into Theed within two hours. Aproximately half an hour after the initial invasionary forces, thirty four similar ships landed in the southern hemisphere at regular locations. It is noted that this is Gungan teritory not under the rule of the Naboo and the location of the Gungan capital of Otah Gunga is unknown. I have since learned that Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Padawan Obi Wan Kenobi, the assigned ambassadors of the Supreme Chancelor escaped assassination in the Trade Federation control ship and stowed away on two of these drop ships. They have confirmed that they were the droid transports earlier theorized." Harry took a breath and wet his dry mouth with a swig of water from his belt canteen.

"Immediately after the furthest provinces fell to the Trade Federationarmies, the capitals of the neighboring provinces were invaded. Harte Secur and Spinnaker fell quickly as well. No ships landed at Theed. Instead, Trade Federation forces marched from Hart Secur and Spinnaker to Theed and fully secured the outer city before moving on to capture the Queen and Naboo government at the Royal Palace. Approximately eighteen hours after the initial landing at the outer provincial capitals, the Queen was captured by Trade Federation forces. I have compiled all of the materials compiled in my investigation on an encrypted datacron. Transmitting now," Harry removed said datacron from his belt satchel and placed it in the uplink tray. The small crystal lit up a vibrant green as the data contained within was beamed to the Temple. Master Yaddle nodded and typed something into her holoterminal screen.

"Transmission confirmed. Data transmitting parallel to report. Continue, Dumb-Luck."

"The Trade Federation marched the Queen and her personal household along with the Governor of Theed, Sio Bibble, and the acting Commander of the Volunteer Security Forces, Quarsh Panaka, through Theed. This is a common tactic of demoralization used by hostile forces to pacify populations with few casualties. I was able to ambush the droids and free the Queen and her entourage. It was at this point when I encountered Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi, and their Gungan guide, Jar Jar Binks. Together, we were able to liberate the Queen's impounded Royal Yacht and the captured flight crews which were held in the hangar. I relayed the anti-air emplacements around the city to the freed Space Defense pilots so that they could safely leave Theed airspace. Governor Bibble joined the Space Defense pilots in their escape. We boarded the Yacht and ran the blockade. During our escape, our hyperdrive was damaged and unable to bring us to Coruscant. Instead, it was decided to shelter on Tatooine for repairs to hide from the Trade Federation under the threat of the Hutts," there was a beep from Master Yaddle's end of the transmission and the small elf looked down at her screen.

"Data transmission complete. Label: Naboo 968-6 Supplement. Continue, Dumb-Luck," Harry picked up the datacron from the uplink tray and replaced it into his satchel. He continued with his report.

"The ship landed approximately five klicks southeast of Mos Espa. Master Jinn, one of the Queen's handmaidens, and the Gungan guide, Binks, are procuring a replacement hyperdrive. Upon entering Mos Espa, I was struck with imposed Force hypersensitivity and was compelled by the Force to find a child within the city. After confirming through Force that my companions would be safe, I left to search for the child. I discovered that the human boy's name was Anakin and was a slave to a Toydarian named Watto. I tracked him to the Slave Quarter, but was unable to locate the boy. I unintentionally encountered Agent Krayt. She informed me that she has been reporting Anakin Skywalker to the Temple for years for training, but has consistently received negative replies. According to her, Master Jinn and his party already encountered Anakin Skywalker and were taken back to his home for shelter from an oncomming Coriolis sandstorm. I am currently at Agent Krayt's residence taking shelter from the same storm. I am planning to accompany Agent Krayt to Anakin Skywalker's residence to rendezvous with Master Jinn's party after the storm passes and decide further course of action. Details irrelevant to the investigation have been omitted for operational security and will be divulged personally upon arrival," Harry alluded to the Queen's handmaiden disguise. It didn't affect the immediate investigation, but Master Yaddle would like to know about it eventually. He gave a deep sigh, happy to be finished, "Awaiting orders."

The holographic elf stared blankly at Harry. Yaddle's padawan knew that she was deep in thought. Her left foot bounced against her chair in tempo to her thoughts and the quiet click of her nails were picked up by the holoterminal as she tapped her fingers slowly together. It was possible she was having an impromptu meditation on the information he had just given her. Harry couldn't truly tell without being able to feel her Force presence. It was a few minutes before her eyes focused sharply and a mask of non-chalance fell over her dimunative features. The Elf addressed her screen, tapping away on her keyboard. A minute went by before a sly smile began to tug at her lips.

"With regards to Anakin Skywalker, abide, we must, by the wise ruling of the Department of Acquisitions," Harry knew that Yaddle and Acquisitions had a history of locking horns over admittance to the Order. If Acquisitions had their way, Yaddle would never had become a Knight after being trapped as a padawan in a cave for a century and had subsequently been declared dead by the Order. Harry knew that she saw both a way around their decision and an opportunity to rub it in the face of Master Amer, the Director of the Department of Acquisitions, "For some reason, reminded, I am, of the protocol of the High Council. Allowed, they are, to bring forward any motion pertaining to a mission inquiry session. Into force, this motion would come, overriding similar motions made previously by a Lower Council, if seconded, it is, by a member of the remaining two Lower councils," Harry matched Yaddle's sly smile.

The Department of Acquisitions was under the Council of Reassignment. Master Yaddle, herself, was on the Council of First Knowledge. Harry suspected the second person she was alluding to was most likely Master Ki-Adi-Mundi or Saesee Tiin. The two were members of the Council of Reconciliation, the Masters who oversaw the Order's interactions with the Senate. Both Masters Mace Windu and Adi Gallia also served on that Lower Council, but Master Windu was a stern believer in preserving the integrity of the Lower Councils' decisions and Master Gallia had been personally investigating the Trade Federation prior to their blockade of Naboo. The laws of the High Council prohibited her from acting in any capacity other than discussion and final voting on an issue in which she was an active part of the investigation. Yaddle could get around that law simply by virtue of acting through Harry.

"The Queen, sure I am, would be sympathetic to the plight of such a young and talented slave," Yaddle continued, "Such a burden, it will be, for her to take him back to Naboo. Show him, we can, some Jedi hospitality until find his place in the galaxy, he can. Hmhmhmhm." While her quiet chuckle sounded happy, her smile was now toothy and slightly predatory. Harry felt his own face subconsciously mimic his Master's expression.

"It is the least we could do. That is, if the Queen decides upon that course of action."

"Not possible at this time, extraction or assistance is. Other missions on Tatooine, we have running. Jeopardize these, we cannot. Your own way back to Coruscant, you must find. A dossier, I will compile, for you and your Queen to prepare you for the Senate," Harry looked at his Master oddly. Yaddle always chose her words very precisely. The formulation 'your Queen' meant something beyond it's obvious reference to his protection of her, "Current Senate political climate, relevant case law, possible opponents; everything, we will prepare for you. Important, I sense, this issue is. Send update, you will, before you leave if possible. May the Force be with you," Master Yaddle nodded gravely and held up a four fingered hand in a sign of blessing.

"And also with you, Master. Dumb-Luck, out." Harry switched off the holoterminal and collapsed back on the bench of the holoterminal with a sigh. That had been rather intense. The Jedi rubbed his eyes in a tired gesture and rose to his feet. Maybe he should join Yasin for that glass of arak.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay. No Padme in this one. Her pov got punted to the next one. Originally I had just meant for Jira to be a passing Scion contact but the whole situation sort of blew up on me. I am, however, very happy with Yasin L'erx. I found a nice little niche for him to fill later in the story. Yaddle's appearance actually came as a surprise to me. It was like, "Okay, Harry's in a spy's house. _Of course_ he is going to try to contact command and make a mission report.' I actually played with making the sandstorm scramble the signals, but decided against it. **

**To head off flames of an ace-of-all-trades Harry. No. He is definitely not a spy. He is a shadow. They need to know basic spycraft skills in case they need to track a darksider while in deep cover. Primarily, he simply knows about spycraft. _Yaddle_ , however, is a spy. She was the head archivist (and still is) before Jocasta Nu. If there was a widespread Jedi Intelligence corps, the head archivist would definitely be a part of it. The Jedi Watchmen are already part of the Legends canon and operate under the Council of Reconciliation. They fulfill a somewhat public intelligence role, but I thought the Order must have some sort of intelligence system in place in the more seedy areas of the Galaxy. Thus, the Jedi Scions were born.**

 **Next up: Anakin, Padme and Shmi. Oh my!**

 **Olorin**


	4. A Political Perspective and Jerky

**A/N: Hello there, readers. A month and a half. Not necessarily the time I was shooting for, but there you go. Better late than never.**

 **I want to clarify the authors note on the last chapter. I did not mean that was trying to demean guest reviews. I am sorry. It was not my intention if that was how it came across. I was specifically targeting flames who bashed the story anonymously without giving any constructive criticism. Guest reviews are welcome, even those who do not like the story. I just ask that if you don't like it, please state it constructively. Thank you.**

 **Reviews:**

 **Readorcetics:** Yes, Harry is powerful in some aspects of the Force, telekinesis among them. However, the Deathly Hallows, while granting him great power with respect to magic, severely crippled his connection with the Living Force and his ability to manipulate it. It is touched on briefly in this chapter. His primary skills in the Force have to deal with the Unifying and Cosmic aspects. Harry's use of skills like Force healing, mind tricks, and manipulation of animals, in addition to others, have been lost. Remember Harry's quick instruction of Yasin in the last chapter. Midichlorian counts (the power readily available to use) does not necessarily denote skill. Someone with a smaller count could have an extremely sharp will and use what power he or she has to greater effect. Look at Anakin in the prequels. He is supposedly the Chosen, but is defeated twice. Once by Dooku and once by Obi-Wan because his anger caused him to use his power wildly and his opponents used a lesser amount of power with greater skill.

 **ElementaryDrW:** We definitely will see more of the ma'jaii (and other Terran species) culture. Unfortunately it won't be more than bits and pieces until the interlude between Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones.

 **Agnar:** Things will follow canon somewhat closely until Coruscant, unfortunately. We start to see a little foreshadowing of that deviation in this chapter with the discussion between Harry and Padme. In all honesty, I am trying to skip over those portions which would be the same. Our next jump should be to after the podrace and their escape from Tatooine. Coruscant is where the story starts to detour. I like political intrigue so writing the Senate session should be fun and at least a chapter in and of itself.

 **Chapter 4: A Political Perspective and Jerky**

Padme was _not_ sulking. She wasn't. She was just avoiding the oh-so-wise Master Jinn so that she wouldn't be tempted to shoot the Jedi in the foot with the hold-out blaster she had hidden in her rough handmaiden disguise.

How _dare_ he!

The Royal Yacht was not something he could bargain with, let alone use as collateral in a _bet_. She loved that yacht. It didn't matter if it was currently just slightly more useful than a large speeder… **_It was hers!_**

That was why she was currently being commanded by a nine-year-old boy, working on a delicate piece of technology upon which her entire future rested with absolutely zero technical knowledge whatsoever concerning the device, following directions like, "Turn it that way…no, to your left… your other left… oops, you were right the first time."

"You look frustrated. What's wrong?" The softly asked question came from someone standing directly behind her. Thus, Padme's reaction was completely expected.

" _Aaaaiiiiii!"_ the girl let out a high pitched squeal of surprise and swung the electrospanner she was holding at the head of the person who had sneaked up behind her. Her hand was easily caught by Knight Potter.

"Is this some sort of Nabooan greeting I'm unfamiliar with?" Harry asked with a roguish grin, having discarded his earlier disguise, "Next time I see the Queen, should I attempt to beat her with a tool box?"

"Don't sneak up on me!" Padme realized how close they were standing. She was proud to say that she could only feel a dusting of heat in her cheeks, a far cry from the molten blushes which had afflicted her during their conversation in the galley. She firmly tugged her hand from his grip and stepped back, "Where did you run off too? One moment you're behind me and the next you're nowhere in sight. If you'd been there," she poked the Jedi in the chest, "then… uh," Padme paused and poked him again. It was like poking a slab of granite. Quickly she got her train of thought back on track, "then maybe our fate wouldn't rest on a nine-year-old competing in an infamously _lethal_ race." He blinked at her, confused.

"Okay, I think you should start from the beginning. I need a little context."

"Where. Did. You. Go!" Padme crossed her arms and stared the Jedi down, every inch the irritated Queen and petulant teenage girl that she was.

"I felt Anakin's force signature on our way into the city and was guided by the Force to seek him out to collect him for training," the Queen wasn't amused and simply pointed at the boy who was half-immersed upside-down in one of the engines, his legs flailing in the air in an attempt to lever himself out.

"Yes, well," the Jedi scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, "I know that _now_ ," the girl's scowl deepened, "the good news is that I was able to make contact with the Temple at Coruscant. While they are unable to provide assistance in getting us off-planet, they are preparing for our arrival. My master is personally preparing a dossier for you. Officially, the Jedi must remain neutral. Unofficially, however, you have the full weight of the Jedi Archives supporting your position in the Senate and with Master Yaddle's connections I wouldn't be surprised if that support extends into other areas of the Order by the time we reach Coruscant."

That brought Padme up short. Her anger fizzled as her mind tried to process the information. Master Qui-Gon had urged Padme (technically he had spoken to Rabe but Padme had been in the room) to issue a moratorium on communication signals in an attempt to mask their location from detection by the Trade Federation. As such, she had assumed that they would arrive unannounced at Coruscant. Now, the prospect of at least part of the Jedi Order working to prepare for their arrival was a boon she did not expect, even if it was simply their library. This 'Master Yaddle', however, seemed to wield a good deal of influence within the Order. Padme assumed that she too was part of the Archives but that begged the question as to why the library held so much sway.

The Queen put down her electrospanner and moved to the bench against the wall of the rear terrace of the Skywalker apartment. Harry followed her. He seated himself next to her and patiently waited as she analyzed the situation. She was grateful for both the quiet and his patience. Upon her election, Padme's court had quickly learned not to rush her. She needed quiet to asses the situation and come to her own conclusions. After a minute or two of watching Anakin wage war against a damaged power coupling, she resumed her discussion.

"I am sure her Highness will be pleased to hear that someone is preparing for her arrival," she said, playing out her public illusion of a handmaiden. Harry shot her an amused sidelong glance but said nothing, "I assume Master Yaddle is part of the archives. If you don't mind me asking, why is a librarian so influential?" Harry gave a bark of a laugh.

"Sorry," he said at her somewhat affronted look, "I'm not laughing at you. I guess she could be called a librarian from a certain point of view," he chuckled again, "but I guess that would be similar to calling the Supreme Chancelor a government worker," Padme's confusion must have shown on her face because Harry explained what he meant, "Master Yaddle is the second oldest member of the Jedi Order, _the_ definitive expert in the more mystical Force techniques which can be utilized by the Jedi and is one of the most respected swordsmen with her chosen style, second only to Grandmaster Yoda himself. As the head of the Archives, she has taken it upon herself to personally have a hand in the education of every Jedi to be trained at the Coruscant Temple in the past two hundred years and has absolute control of every piece of information which enters or leaves the possession of the Jedi Order. While there are many other Jedi Masters who wield a greater authority in the wider galaxy, Master Yaddle is one of the living hearts of the Order," Harry's eyes shone with pride at Master Yaddle's accomplishments and he wore a loving smile which melted Padme's heart just a little bit.

"She seems very important to you," the girl observed softly. Harry nodded.

"I was her Padawan, just as Obi-Wan is Master Qui-Gon's. She's my family," the Jedi shrugged, "If there is anyone in the Order who can guide _the Queen_ ," he shot her another sidelong glance, "though the quagmire of Senate procedure, precedent and political climate, it is Master Yaddle. You'll need all the help you can get, this issue with the Trade Federation is much, _much_ larger than simply the Invasion of Naboo and you will encounter resistance disproportionate to a simple trade dispute."

"What are you trying to say?" Padme asked with narrowed eyes. How dare he downplay the suffering of her people. The Jedi must have recognized her anger for what it was because he raised his hands placatingly.

"I am not saying anything to demean your situation. I-" he cut himself off and subtly looked around. He held up his index finger in the universal sign of 'give me a second'. In an economy of movement, he slid his left hand into this right sleeve and withdrew the length of wood which Padme had spied during their liberation of the Royal Yacht. Up close, she could see that it was much more than a simple stick. At one point it appeared to have been carved, but time and handling had worn down much of the definition. She could make out knobs or berries had been carved into the rod at somewhat regular intervals. A smaller, handle-like section of bumps were separated from the primary length by an off-white ring which appeared to be made of bone. Padme could make out minuscule characters carved into this bone.

The Jedi subtly pointed it at the ground and softly muttered a few words. He twirled the tip of the rod in a small circle and flicked it in each of the cardinal directions. For a moment, Padme's hearing became muffled, as if hearing the sounds of the world around her through a thick blanket, before reverting to normal.

"What was that?" the queen asked, confused.

"My species possesses a unique ability to channel the Force in special ways through certain focusing materials. I used my wand to channel the Force in such a way that only you may hear what I am about to say," she raised an eyebrow at that, not for the display of power but the need for such secrecy. The Jedi seemed to catch on to this train of thought because he explained, "Could you fully blame someone to do anything to get out of a truly desperate situation? To the right people, this information could by the freedom of not only themselves but also their families. If it gets out, I could only blame myself."

Padme wanted to object on behalf of Anakin and Shmi, but as her gaze wandered over to the boy she noticed that he was now being teased by a group of what seemed to be his friends. She while the majority of them were engrossed by Anakin's antics with the podracer, a human girl and a young rodian were watching them with somewhat calculating stares. She wondered if Anakin had said something about them or if they were simply wary of strangers. A couple of housing units down, a trio of women were scrubbing small machine parts with abrasive, gossiping quietly. Every so often, one of the women would turn her head to glance at them and say something to her companions who would, in turn, nod solemnly as if agreeing.

As much as Padme prized her honor and morals, she could not say what she would do in their positions. Slavery was a concept completely foreign to her. She had reduced it to an intellectual construct. An evil to be combated in debates in the Senate and interplanetary treaties. Even in her limited experience with Anakin and Shmi, she knew that the practice could be much, much worse. She suppressed a shiver at the possibility of such a loving family being forced into such horrors.

"The Trade Federation, among others, has been under investigation by the Order for over a decade," Harry's voice brought the Queen's attention back to the matter at hand, "We have become aware of sprawling network of influence across the galaxy. We do not know the entire extent and there is little to no hard evidence of direct collusion, but it causes somewhat small events to make ripples in the wider galaxy which quickly snowball to the benefit of certain conglomerates acting on the fringes of legality. We do not believe any one of these entities to be the one at the center of this web. They are all being played, either in concert or against each other by a third party," Harry paused to sip from his belt canteen.

"The Order has been working closely with Chancellor Valorum on the investigation. At first, we were wary of including the Chancellor due to the fact that there was evidence of someone close to the Senate being part of this ring. We theorized that he or she may be within the Chancellor's sphere of influence and we did not want our investigation from being leaked without a solid base of evidence. About four years ago, there was an attempted assassination on the Chancellor," Padme's mouth went dry at the prospect, "Meditation on the will of the Force brought us to the conclusion that he must be made aware of the situation. We read him into the investigation and have halted six additional attempts since then," Harry sighed.

"In all honesty, Padme, when you step foot on Coruscant you are stepping into a much larger war than just the invasion of Naboo. Over the past decade, over a billion lives have lost their lives in one conflict or another in connection with this organization and those are only the deaths that the Order knows about. There is evidence that it extends much further back in history."

Padme felt weak. In all honesty, she was glad she was sitting down. One billion. That approximately one and a half times the population of Naboo. She couldn't really wrap her head around it. She wouldn't ask why. She already knew. She already had experienced it in her predecessor. The reason was simply greed: greed for wealth; greed for power; the all-consuming desire for _more_ that ruined the lives of all who stood in the path of obtaining that which they do not have. To simply live in contentment was a foreign concept for some people. This greed, however, was so much more monstrous than Veruna's simple greed for wealth. This was a greed for something intangible, something which was nothing more than unending desire for absolute power. There could be no tangible reward for the one who pulled the strings of this shadowy organization. It was simply not possible.

Padme loved Naboo and her people loved her (at least according to eighty-six percent of Naboo's electorate). She would give her life for her people. This, however was something far greater than her small planet. This was a cause that would effect every sentient in the galaxy. Such depravity would not just stop at power of this world or that system. It was all-consuming. Her duty as a _person_ demanded her effort to halt this atrocity and as a _Queen_ she had the power to make a difference.

"What can I do to help?" Padme pinned Harry with a determined glare, "What can _Naboo_ do to help?"

Harry stared at her, seemingly searching for something. Gradually, a soft smile graced his lips.

"Do exactly what you are doing, but think bigger" Padme blinked and Harry explained, "I was attended some of your addresses while I was on the planet," a somewhat embarrassed blush graced her cheeks as she remembered some of her more fiery speeches over the past few months. Her anger at the situation had bled through and shattered the image of a serene diplomat she had crafted during her election. The news-holos had recently dubbed her the 'Firebrand Queen' not without good reason, "'Let us not give in to the oppression of galactic bullies,'" Harry quoted from one of her more popular speeches at the onset of the blockade, one which had been broadcast in full on the galaxy-wide Republic News Service, "'We Naboo live our belief of non-violence but no one shall call us cowards. We stand defiant in the face of tyranny and greed. Naboo is the voice of peace. Naboo is the voice of unity. Our voice in defiance of oppression will ring through the galaxy long after our children's children have come and gone. Let our actions shine as an example to others. _We_ shall not be moved. _Naboo_ shall not be shaken!'" By the end of the quote, Padme could feel her cheeks burn embarrassment, "You were quite good."

"I was angry," she mumbled in explanation as she suddenly found her folded hands in her lap extremely fascinating. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry shake his head.

"No, no. We _need_ that anger," she looked up, surprise, "The greatest threat to this organization is interplanetary unity and peace. With the coverage of this blockade, you have just found yourself in the best position to cause this change to the galaxy."

"But the Senate-" she trailed off as she saw Harry shake his head again.

"The Senate, whether we like it or not, is mired with corruption," Harry held up a hand to stave off her inevitable comment on the virtues of democracy, "I do not doubt that there are Senators who work for the good of all but one corrupt Senator can undo the work of ten good ones. The public opinion in much of the Galaxy is that the Senate is largely ineffective. But _you_ , you are completely independent of that corruption and have captured the galaxy's interest. Whether or not you can actually force the Senate to act, you will become something larger than life in much of the galaxy's eyes. You will become a symbol of hope. Hope for a change and hope for a better life, whatever that life will be," he looked over to Anakin, "After all this is over and Naboo is liberated," he glanced sidelong at Padme with a knowing smile, "and Naboo _will_ be liberated, speak on your experience and inspire others by your example. Become an interplanetary voice for change. Once Naboo recovers, reach out to the larger galaxy."

"I thought you said that you hated politics?" the Queen asked. He gave a self depreciating shrug.

"I do. It doesn't mean that I'm not good at it. I just don't like being the one dealing with the minutia. I don't have the patience."

The two settled into an amicable silence as Padme turned his words over in her head. They gave her hope. Not just for Naboo but for the galaxy as a whole. She had volunteered a good deal before her election in the Refugee Relief movement so service outside of Naboo was nothing new to her. The thought of a monarch helping out alongside everyone else was definitely something attractive and would promote interplanetary unity amongst peoples but she had a feeling that Harry meant something beyond that role: a figurehead leading the charge for change. She had some experience in her election campaign, but a great deal of that had been the work of her local campaign managers. It also helped that she happened to be running against a minion of Veruna who was almost as hated as the King himself. But that was Naboo. She _knew_ Naboo. She knew what drove the everyday men and women in the streets because she had grown up with them. Could she do that for the large galaxy, for other cultures?

Yes. That was her answer. She could. With few exceptions, everyone strove for basic concepts in their daily lives: sustenance, shelter, liberty, purpose, respect and happiness. Life was a universal concept.

"So," Harry began after a few minutes of comfortable silence watching Anakin tinker with his podracer as his friends looked on, "What was this about a race?"

Padme's sour mood returned as quickly as it had fled. She glared at Harry and related the events which had transpired in his absence.

 ** _No one_** was going to take her yacht.

Harry sighed to himself as he sliced a cucumber. He had heard the rumors surrounding Master Jinn's seemingly random actions reportedly guided by the Force, but Harry had originally thought them somewhat of exaggerations. Now he knew that the stories were being somewhat kind. He trusted that Jinn was acting on the Living Force. Harry was no expert by far on the Living Force, even before his connection to it was severely damaged by possessing the Deathly Hallows. His specialty was based more in the Cosmic and Unifying Force, but even he understood that the Living Force only concerned itself with the present and had no way to see the outcome of an action. All future outcomes relied on the Unifying Force and thus, it was simply not possible for Jinn to understand the outcomes of his actions past the general feeling that it would be alright in the end, whether that end would be them winning the bet or the entire royal party hitchhiking to Coruscant as refugees. When he had confronted Jinn in private about his escapades, Harry had offered his assistance in making sure that Anakin would win the race. Jinn had outright forbade him from interfering. As a knight, Harry could not disobey a direct order from the Master. It wasn't like he was going to kill the other contestants. He had been thinking more along the lines of leaking fuel cells, unbalanced stabilizers or corroded power couplings. Cheating was rampant in these sort of races and it wasn't against the rules if you didn't get caught. And Harry _wouldn't_ get caught.

Cooking always relaxed him. As a woman proud of her elfin heritage, Yaddle had made sure to instruct her progeny in the arts of her clan. Clan Yad was famous for its chefs and as such, Yaddle had made sure that Harry spent plenty of time in the Hogwarts kitchens learning her clan's trade from the venerable elders of her clan who oversaw the culinary work of the school with an iron fist, watchful eye and _very_ sharp knives.

When he witnessed Shmi's veiled panic at the prospect of feeding yet another mouth, Harry stepped in. By Shmi's own thin appearance, it seemed that there was not necessarily an excess of food available to the family and even one extra mouth, let alone four, would have been a draw on their resources. Thus, Harry had stepped in with an offer to cook for the family with a song and dance about Terran hospitality to convince the caring woman to accept his gift of food. Technically, he hadn't outright lied. It was the truth from a certain point of view, as Obi-Wan was fond of saying. It was just that he had stretched the truth to just shy of breaking.

He had enough Terran edibles in his expanded belt satchel to feed ten times their number and still have food left over. The elves of Hogwarts had secretly stuffed the bag full to bursting of food when they had colluded with Yaddle to smuggle him out of the system. He had only realized this when, halfway to Naboo, he had opened his ration compartment only to have a raw chicken shoot out and smack him in the face. His master had found the situation utterly hilarious when he had first holocalled from Naboo.

Now, Harry was cooking a four course Terran meal of his favorites for the small family and their guests. He had done a quick blood test with the permission of all who would be dining for a quick check of possible allergies. He was extremely glad he had done so, as it turned out that Binks was allergic to citrus. That had nixed his plan for a treacle tart for dessert.

With a prod of his mind, the door to the kitchen's small oven opened and the finished vanilla cake swapped itself out for a prepared beef wellington. The Jedi set the cucumber slices down in a small bowl alongside the rest of the components for their starter salad to fully concentrate on the cake. Normally, he was pants at frosting a cake. For some reason, it always came out lopsided for him or the cake tore on it's way out of the pan. That, however had been under the diligent eye of Yaddy, Hogwart's head pastry chef. In his eyes the artistry that was cake decorating could only be done by hand. The one time Harry had tried to frost a cake using the Force he had nimbly jumped up onto the counter and walloped Harry on the forehead with his wooden spoon. Never again did Harry attempt it in the little elf's kitchen and the bruise had decorated Harry's forehead as a reminder of his heresy for over a week.

Now, outside of Yaddy's tyrannical kitchen, Harry gently separated the cake from the pan with his mind. Not even allowing a single crumb to stick to the metal baking dish. The pale brown chocolate frosting came in a fluid wave from the mixing bowl on the counter to cover the sides and top of the pastry. This was infinitely easier than doing it by hand. With a pull of his mind, the frosting churned, forming itself into images of different Terran flowers: a rose here, a lily there, small buds of baby's breath decorated the edge while vines of ivy separated each decoration.

Harry blinked. As scary as the thought was, Yaddy had actually been right. There was no artistry in this. He did not feel any pride at the achievement. With a grumble about elves who knew too much for their own good, he settled the cake down on a platter and picked up a spatula. While a lopsided and lumpy cake wouldn't look as nice, he would feel better about himself than if he were complemented for something that took absolutely no effort.

A subtle sensation in the Force caused him to reach out and shoved the frosting bowl further back on the counter.

"That's for dessert," Harry told the boy who had sneaked into the kitchen when his back had been turned, "You can taste it when dinner is finished." Harry turned around to see a wide-eyed Anakin frozen in the shock of getting caught, his finger still extended into the space where the frosting bowl had recently occupied.

The odd sensation was back. It was not the overpowering force hypersensitivity. That had vanished when Padme had introduced him to Anakin after she had filled Harry in on the situation with the bet. No, this was a nagging familiarity which lurked in the back of his mind. It slightly felt like Terra, like the ebb and flow of the Force which bubbled beneath the skin of every Ma'jaii. Harry had made sure to check if the boy had any Ma'jaii ancestry when he had run the blood test to check for allergies. The Terran species _could_ produce children with humans or even near-human species so it was possible, if not very probably due to Ma'jaii's tendency for seclusion. The results, however, had come back one hundred percent human, which was puzzling.

Anakin must have realized he was still holding his finger in the air for he nonchalantly reached over to pluck a pallie from a bowl against the wall as if that had been his original intention all along.

"What are you making?" the boy asked, subtly sniffing the air. His eyes flickered between the soup pot simmering on the stove, the mound of the beef wellington in the oven illuminated by the soft glow of the heating element, and the lumpy frosted cake on the counter. A quick glance at the components of the salad resulted in a disgusted twitch of Anakin's nose, showing Harry the full extent of the nine-year-old's dislike for raw vegetables.

"Well," Harry began, amused at the seemingly universal dislike of children for vegetables, "I'm making a full Terran meal. First, we have a tossed salad," Harry pointed at said greens and received another disgruntled twitch from the boy, "then, there is butternut squash soup," Harry lifted the lid of the bubbling soup pot and Harry hid a smile at the interested face Anakin made when the smell hit his nose. The Jedi would tell the boy it was almost all vegetables _after_ he had consumed his bowl, "Then we have something called beef wellington, which is a cut of meat from a Terran animal called a cow wrapped in dough and spices," Anakin's eyes went wide, "and then we have a simple cake for dessert," Harry gestured at his lumpy creation.

"We're gonna have meat?" Anakin seemed to tremble in excitement. Harry could only nod, perplexed, "Yippee!" Anakin's squeal of joy caught Harry by surprise. The boy threw his piece of fruit back into its bowl and rushed over to the oven. He plopped himself down on the floor to watch the beef wellington beginning to brown, "You must be rich, mister! I've only had meat a few times and it was _really_ good. Watto only gives us some when I help him make a _big_ sale. It's always womp rat, but mom knows how to cook it so we don't get sick. Does it taste anything like womp rat?" the boy looked up at the Jedi from his place on the floor and Harry blinked down at him for a moment, trying to process the boy's rapid fire speech patterns, before squatting himself down next to Anakin.

"Well, I've never had womp rat before, so you'll have to tell me," Harry reached into his belt satchel and called a piece of beef jerky to his hand from his ration compartment. He withdrew the piece from the bag and unbelievably, Anakin's eyes grew even larger. He took the piece from the Jedi's hands and stared at it as if it were a treasure.

"Is it already cooked? Do I have to do anything to make it safe to eat?" He glanced up at Harry and the Jedi felt his heart break a little. Having been adopted into the Yad clan through Yaddle, Harry had a special place in his heart for feeding people. Food was an important part of the Yads' culture and tradition. The Yads served food in an attempt to give part of their own lives to others in sustenance. It hurt to think that such a small gift of food was so precious to a child.

"You can eat it as is. Beef isn't poisonous. This piece has been smoked and dried so that it can last for years before you eat it," Harry watched as Anakin nibbled on a corner. He chewed the tough meat carefully and swallowed. His gaze flickered back and forth between the chunk of jerky in his hand and Harry.

"This is _so_ much better than womp rat," he said in wonder. The boy took a few more small bites, chewing happily before he paused and looked thoughtfully at the remaining half of the jerky, "I-" Anakin began, "I probably should save it for later. You said that it will last for a while and we will be having more tonight. I want it to last," he looked longingly at the small piece of meat before moving to stow it in his pocket. Harry stopped him by placing his right hand on the boy's shoulder, the other reaching into his belt satchel. He called out in the Force and a box zoomed into his hand. He withdrew the sizable container from his satchel and the boy stared in wonder as the laws of space were seemingly defied as what exited the satchel was a good deal larger than the satchel itself.

"You can finish that jerky if you want," he handed the container to Anakin, still somewhat in shock at its appearance, "There is a lot more in here. There's different types too," Harry opened the lid to display all of its various compartments to the boy and pointed various ones out to the boy, "Here's the beef which you tried. And here's chicken, a type of bird; and pork; and ostrich, a very large type of bird which doesn't fly. Oh and here's mooncalf, if ever you're really hurt or sick, eat some of this and it will help you get better quickly. And here," he drew out a small chunk of meat that was a vibrant green, "is my favorite. It's very special," he leaned in close to Anakin and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "do you know why?" Anakin shook his head, a smile beginning to form on his face as he got over his shock, "it's _dragon_ jerky."

Harry popped the tidbit of meat into his mouth, chewed the tasty hunk of tough meat quickly and swallowed. He held up a finger in a 'just-a-moment' gesture before he felt the tell-tale rumbling in his stomach. The Jedi lifted his head back and released a great belch, shooting a half-meter jet of flames towards the ceiling.

(line break)

That was how Shmi found them about half an hour later when she came to check if Harry needed any help. The main dish was cooling on the rack above the oven and both the boy and her newest guest were sitting on the floor, burping and shooting flames out of their mouths, a large container of dried meats open before them. She stood there blinking as the belching stopped and both boy and young man erupted into laughter. Slowly she exited the kitchen. She had seen plenty of odd occurrences while raising Anakin, but this had to be one of the strangest. The mother smiled softly to herself. As long as he didn't burn down their home, she was fine with it. He was her light in this dark life. His bright outlook on life was always a balm to her soul. Her miracle deserved all the happiness he could get.


	5. Escape from Tatooine

**A/N: A chapter in a week! This is a rare occurrence, let me tell you. This is the Chapter 5 I promised. I will be inserting a placeholder for Chapter 6 and move the real chapter seven to its true slot.**

 **Reviews:**

 **TheFishKing:** Yep, they aren't. She is, however, a legacy of Yaddle. Yaddle is famous (infamous) for being the most un-Jedi Jedi in the Order. The only reason she was accepted after her time trapped in a cave was because there was absolutely no taint of the dark side in her after her personal exploration of the Force. I kind of peg her padawans somewhat of bucking tradition and what is proper for a Jedi to do and not to do.

 **Musako21 and CornFlake27:** Yes. I do realize that Chapters 5 and 6 were missing. I explained the situation in the Author's Note I pointed out as being very important and should be read.

 **To everyone else, thank you for your wonderful reviews!**

* * *

 **THERE IS A SMALL SECTION WHICH IS RATED M. I DON'T BELIEVE THAT IT WARRANTS THE RATING OF THE STORY TO BE CHANGED, BUT IT DOES CARRY A WARNING. IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO READ A SMALL, BUT SOMEWHAT GRUESOME DESCRIPTION OF PHYSICAL INJURY, SKIP THE INDICATED** **SECTION INDICATED.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Escape from Tatooine**

Harry watched from the shadows as the toydarian drank himself into oblivion. Having revisited Jira and Yasin after the podrace to make contact with the Temple and call in a favor to Terra, the knight had confirmed that Watto _had_ actually lost everything. His bank accounts were completely drained, his loans from the Hutts had been called in, and even his house had been repossessed. All he had left in the world was the small pastiform box of his belongings upon which he now sat, the near empty bottle of cheap _arak_ in his hand, and the junk shop in which he was currently hiding.

Well, that and Shmi. Thankfully, the Skywalker apartment had been part of the bet Watto had made with Gardula and was tied to his ownership of the woman. Jira was truly a master at her craft. The toydarian still owned the kind-hearted woman, but Harry was here correct that.

"Two hundred and seventy-three thousand, four hundred and thirty-two," the Toydarian spasmed violently in surprise, falling off his box onto the floor. The bottle of arak rolled across the floor and clinked against a rusting hyperdrive cooling unit.

"Whoosh der?" the toydarian slurred in his drunken stupor as Harry nudged his cloak with the Force to allow himself to be seen and stepped out from the shadows.

"That's how much you lost on the race today, wasn't it? Two hundred and seventy-three thousand, four hundred and thirty-two wupei. I believe at the current market that is around twelve hundred aurum trade ingots, isn't it?" the knight crossed the room in a few short strides to the chair in front of the counter reserved for customers. He lowered himself onto the rickety chair as if he were lowering himself onto the Throne of the Merlins at Hogwarts. As Yaddle had taught him, confidence was ninety percent of a negotiation.

Harry partially lifted his occlumency so that some of his force presence leaked into the room around him. The heavy alien touch of the cosmic force bled into his presence though his link to the Deathly Hallows. While actively suppressing the feeling of power and dominance given off by the Elder Wand and the icy touch of death emitted by the Resurrection Stone, he allowed the presence of the Invisibility Cloak to slip in with his own. It's air of mystery, of a veiled secret lying just out of reach, aided Harry in his task. While the toydarian was not force sensitive to the degree that they could manipulate the energies of the universe as Jedi did, all beings which possessed midi-chlorians had some emotional reaction to the cosmic force. The cautious curiosity which the power of the Invisibility Cloak would inspire in the junk dealer would hopefully influence the winged blue man to accept Harry's offer. Not that the knight was cheating the man. By all accounts, Watto was getting the better end of the deal. Harry was just trying to provide extra insurance that the junk-dealer would hear him out.

"That is, of course, not even including the loss of Anakin," Harry watched as the toydarian climbed back up to his perch on his box of belongings, seemingly too drunk to fly, "A young slave like that? A mechanic – a talented robotics engineer too if his droid is anything to go by? A pod racer who just won one of the biggest races in the outer rim? You could have just put him on the auction block and watched the money roll in."

"Get out!" the toydarian swayed in is seat as he pointed at the door, "If you're juss here to insult me, outlander, get out!"

"I am not here to insult you, my friend," the usage of the word 'friend' was a stretching of the meaning of the term by all accounts, but as Harry had decided against the usage of aggressive negotiations (usually involving lightsabers, threats, blackmail, or any combination of those three), he needed to make himself as welcoming as possible, "I am here to make you an offer. You have something I want and I have the means to offer some respite from your financial woes."

Watto's eyes narrowed and Harry knew if he could reach into the living force to sense the toydarian, he would have been able to feel the junk dealer's mind whirl into overdrive at the prospect of profit.

"Shmi," he said after a few moments, "You want Shmi. You're with that outlander who wanted the Nubian parts, aren't you?" Watto's face began to purple in rage, "How _dare_ you come here after costing me everything!"

"Our tall acquaintance acted on his own, I assure you," Harry raised a hand in a placating gesture, "I had no knowledge of his actions until after the fact. At the time, we did not have any currency you would accept and had no way of retrieving funds. Now however, I have been able to arrange for a courier to deliver payment for Shmi," while the toydarian's face had halted its change of colors, he still didn't seem convinced. Harry mentally sighed. He had had a feeling that it would come to this, "I am also willing to provide partial compensation for the hardship you endured through the actions of my tall friend," the Jedi spotted the gleam of greed which sprung up in Watto's eyes. The toydarian was hooked.

"Water," the toydarian croaked after a minute of mulling the proposal over, "I'll only sell if your currency is water."

Harry thought the offer over. It would cost a good deal more time and effort in the long run on his (or rather his Terran contact's) part. The water couldn't be summoned using the _Aguamenti_ charm. The force which condensed the water into a liquid stream from free vapor in the air always had a tendency to revert back to vapor instantly after a period of time. The duration which it stayed in liquid form depended upon how much power the caster used when summoning it. No ma'jaii would be able to summon the water needed with enough power to prevent it reverting to a gaseous state while en route. If the volume of water Harry expected to pay instantly reverted into a gas inside of a sealed pressure vessel like a starship, it would likely rupture the hull and decompress the ship. The water also couldn't be summoned on Tatooine due to the lack of free water vapor in the air to draw on. He wouldn't be able to use a tanker with space expansion charms either. Those spells were very delicate when used within a vessel traveling at hyperspeed. The volume of an expanded space could not exceed the free space within the vessel. When he had originally boarded the royal yacht, even Harry had to do some measurements of the available room to make sure his satchel wasn't exceeding the limit. When it did… well, it wasn't pretty. He was going to have to do the deal the old-fashioned way: with a big ship and a large amount of hyperdrive fuel.

For the first time, the Jedi was glad that Tatooine was in Hutt space. Within the Republic, the bartering of ecologically essential natural resources, like water, was heavily regulated, at least officially. In reality, the intergalactic mercantile corporations bribed the Republic bureaucracy for unrestricted licensing on resource transfer and held the monopolies in an iron grasp. Naboo's current plight concerning the dispute over mining of their plasmic core was just the latest conflict to come out of this bureaucratic corruption.

Harry was already going relay the terms of the deal to Terra when he reached the Temple. He guessed he would have to ask them to reroute a freighter or a small tanker too. This was going to be one big favor.

* * *

In the end, Harry and Watto had agreed upon seven hundred cubic meters of water: four hundred and fifty for Shmi and two hundred and fifty for Master Jinn's involvement in his misfortune. If Watto dumped his payment on the market all at once, he would most probably make out with enough to buy a small, but comfortable, home and have enough left over to both afford a full-time employee and have a slight financial cushion to fall back on. If he rationed the water, however, only selling small batches in times of scarcity, then he could come reasonably close to recouping his losses within five years, sooner if he immediately reinvested his profit into other resource trading markets. This was what had drawn Watto to water. It was not so much the immediate payoff, but the prospect of long-term profit.

When the deal had finally been done, the Force's pleased purr at Shmi's freedom had reverberated so strongly in his mind that it nearly made Harry light headed. As it had died away on his journey to the Skywalker home to tell them the good news, he meditated on the cause. For some reason, the future seemed so much brighter. It was as if the act of freeing Shmi had torn away a dark and foreboding future to let hope shine through all the brighter. There were still paths the future could take which were just as dark, but it seems as if that one act had wiped away a path whose darkness was so all-encompassing that it obscured nearly all the possibilities for good around it. Harry suspected that this foreboding future may be part of the darkness which had been gradually clouding the sights of Yaddle and other leading Masters for years. He didn't know what was coming. No one did. He only knew that _something_ was indeed coming and Shmi's freedom gave the Light somewhat of a bulwark to a portion of that oncoming darkness.

The question remained, why was Shmi Skywalker's fate so important to the future, to the defense of the light against the oncoming storm. Why was the freedom of a specific slave so important? What would Shmi do, should she have remained a slave, that would cause such a great impact upon the galaxy? Unless… maybe it wasn't necessarily what Shmi would _do_ , but rather what would be _done to_ Shmi that was important. Maybe it would be what _Anakin_ would do in reaction to something which happened to his mother. The boy was strong, very strong, in the Force. If something caused him to fall and turn against the light… Yes, that could very well be the path through which this potential darkness would flow.

Either way, this path of questioning was far above his level of expertise. He would simply gather as much information as he could regarding the situation and relay it back to Master Yaddle when he got back to Coruscant. She would know what to make of it. She always did.

Arriving at his destination, Harry knocked firmly on the door to the Skywalker home.

It was a few moments before Shmi answered the door. Her eyes were red and puffy and a few damp tear tracks still decorated her face, despite the woman seemingly had just tried to dry them away using the damp handkerchief she was currently stuffing into the belt of her tunic.

"Knight Potter," the mother took a breath in an attempt to steady her wavering voice, "I- I'm sorry but you just missed Master Jinn and Anakin. They just," she took another breath, "they just left."

"I'm actually here to speak to you, Madam Skywalker, if you would allow me. May I come in?"

"Me?" she asked confused before realizing that they were still standing at the doorway, "Oh, forgive me, please come in," the woman moved to the side to let the Jedi enter her home, "Would you like something to drink? I still have the tea you left behind, if you would like some."

"No thank you, Ma'am," Harry answered as Shmi seated him on the common area's threadbare couch, "I come bearing some news," she gave him a curious glance, "I just came from speaking to Watto. He lost almost everything to the Hutts due to his bets on the races. All that escaped their grasp was the shop and your indenture contract. He has decided to sell you Madam Skywalker," Shmi looked lost. Harry knew that she had experienced far less kind master in her life of slavery and was dreading the possibility of being thrust into that life again. Harry pushed on, "Within the next few months, a freighter will arrive with seven hundred cubic meters of water. This water will pay for the dissolution of your indenture," Shmi blinked, not processing the information, "In a few months, you'll be free."

Whatever Harry expected the woman's response to be, it was definitely not this.

"No!" the soft cry was frantic as the woman seemed to draw in on herself, "I-I don't know anything else. I don't have anywhere to go. Watto wasn't the best master, but he was a good one. He fed us, gave us a little extra to live on. What will I _do_ now?"

It was times like this that Harry cursed the Hallows for taking away his connection to the living force, however small it was to begin with. He could have eased Shmi's emotional pain, calmed her frantic mind. Instead of a metaphysical approach, he simply addressed the situation from a social standpoint, one person comforting the other. He reached out and placed his hand on the trembling woman's shoulder.

"No one is turning you out from anywhere," Shmi looked up into Harry's eyes, confused but hopeful, seeking an escape from her panic. In a moment, Harry understood a little of what she was going through. The woman had been a slave almost her entire life, she had long forgotten how to make major decisions for herself. Anakin had been the only thing in her life which had truly been hers. Now that he was gone, she fell upon what she knew and the only thing she truly knew how to do was to be a slave. He would have to ask for a mind healer for Shmi after she was freed when he called back to Terra. The elves had a racial history with the mentality of slavery. Maybe they could help.

"My contact who is coming to free you runs a large company. He has said that, if you would like to return to the Sol system with him, he would help you find work either within the company or elsewhere. We both want you to find a purpose which you enjoy, not simply what you are ordered to do," the woman gave Harry a shaky smile as she took a few calming breaths.

"I would like that," she responded softly, "thank you," her words carried the weight of a woman whose life had just been pulled from the grasp of death.

"Is there anything you like to do? I can pass it along and we can see if he can set up some possible opportunities for when you are freed."

"I…" Shmi paused in thought for a minute, searching her past for any joy she took in her work, "I was a housekeeper once, for Pi-Lippa Hill. She took one look at me after she bought me and told me that I would manage her estate. I suddenly had seventy-three other slaves under me, but by the smokers, I made sure that that estate was the finest on Muunilust," Shmi had a fire in her eye that Harry had never seen before in the soft-spoken woman, "Her boss, Hego Damask, even visited once and thought the manor so fine that he sent his complements to me," she looked awed, as if she still couldn't even believe it, "The Head of the Banking Clans complemented my work," a slight blush tinted her cheeks, "It was one of the finest days of my life, only second to Anakin's birth. If possible, I would like to do that again."

Harry smiled, knowing the perfect job for Shmi.

"I think we could make that happen."

* * *

Harry stumbled slightly as another flash of vision hit him.

Red and Black. Hatred. Anger. The harsh red glow of a lightsaber with a synthetic crystal. The sandy soil of a desert canyon. The taint and corruption of the dark side flowing along his veins, burning his soul.

Harry blinked at his new surroundings. He had been having flashes of the near future since he left the Skywalker residence. Gradually, the familiarity of the trek back to the ship had fallen away. In the trance-like state induced by the visions, the Force had gently pushed him off course. He knew that he was still heading in the general direction of the Royal Yacht, but the terrain was unfamiliar.

The Jedi was currently standing in the canyon he had seen in the visions. The steep walls of reddish-brown stone were worn smooth from some ancient flood. Sand had invaded the canyon in the intervening years, piled against the stone walls by the faint, but constant, breeze flowing past the Jedi Knight.

Harry had made it half-way though the dessert gorge before he felt it. There, at the edge of his perception was a presence. It was a violent wound in the harmony of the Force: dark, a seething mass of anger and hate. The taint was similar to the feel of the Death Eaters back on Terra, although this newcomer held none of the utter perversion which their dark magic had caused. Their magic had felt oily, putrid and rotting, tainting everything it encountered. This dark force user was a gaping wound, a shattered bone, bleeding darkness profusely onto its surroundings. It did not infuse its corruption into the world around it but rather slathered its darkness upon the Force around it, oppressing it, demanding the Force submit to its own twisted will.

As a Jedi Shadow, Harry could not let it stand uncontested. He could feel its intent even at this distance: Padme's death. The Force demanded confrontation. It demanded that the light stand against the darkness. He was to be the shield now, not the sword. Now was not the time for the light to triumph. It would come, but in its due time. Harry was to hold off the attacker, the assassin, until their party could make their escape.

He was to buy time. Nothing more.

The Jedi activated his com, and selected Master Jinn's frequency.

"Knight Potter to Master Jinn," there was silence for but a moment before the Master answered his call.

"Jinn here."

"Master, how far out are you and Anakin from the ship?"

"About a kilometer, kilometer and a half, why?" Harry could hear the rustling of fabric in the background stop, signaling that Jinn had stopped walking, "Did something happen?"

"I am sensing a dark force user approaching quickly. Even at this distance, I can sense that his intent is to assassinate the queen," Harry could hear Anakin's soft muffled voice through the microphone of Jinn's communicator but couldn't make out what was said. There was a pause on Jinn's end before the Master responded.

"I sense something approaching too, although I can't make out what it is," he seemed frustrated that the force user was eluding his senses, a slight note of worry tainting his usually neutral tone, "we'll make for the ship and prepare it for launch. Will you be joining us or will we need to pick you up?"

"The Force is urging me to engage the assassin. I'll most likely need an aerial extraction," Harry glanced at his surroundings, "I'm off of the main path from the city. You'll need to ping my com to get a location."

"The Force be with you, Harry," the knight smiled slightly at the dropped formality. According to Obi-Wan, his Master very rarely used first names, preferring to keep most people at arms' length. The use of Harry's name revealed the Master's concern for the young Knight.

"And with you, Master. Potter out."

Harry stowed away his com and knelt in the sandy soil of the ancient riverbed. For the second time today, he drew upon the power of the Hallows.

The name 'Deathly Hallows' was something of a misnomer. Apart from a single use of the Resurrection Stone, the Hallows had nothing to do with death. The Hallows were bridges which bypassed the obscuring veil of the Unifying Force, a veil which at the time of the Hallows' discovery was known as the Veil of Death.

At the moment, Harry had no use for the Resurrection Stone. He had no desire to meddle in the flow of time within the Force. Hermione was right when she said that awful things happened to wizards who meddled with time. Instead he reached out to the Elder Wand. It was much more than a powerful conduit for the ma'jaii's racial magical abilities; the wand was a direct bridge into the Cosmic Force. He would not use magic in this fight. Most of the spells he knew which would be useful in this fight were considered eruptive, that is, they left the end of his wand as a beam of light. These spells could be caught on the blade of a lightsaber and deflected as easily as a blaster bolt. More so, since the spells traveled slower than blaster bolts. Harry wouldn't use the wand itself, but he would draw upon its bridge into the cosmic force to sustain himself as he used some of the more taxing force techniques Yaddle had taught him. He knew that he would most likely be in a near coma like state for at least twelve hours once this was over while he would recuperate from using its power, but overkill was better than not being prepared when encountering an unknown darksider.

The slightest touch of Harry's mind against his metaphysical bond to the Elder Wand snapped the connection open. For a moment, the world around him dissolved into pure energy. The physical attributes of matter were veiled in the wash of the basic forces of the universe: gravity, nuclear forces, electromagnetism. The immensity of the Cosmic Force always overwhelmed him at first. Slowly, the Jedi drew his mind closer to reality, closer to the nexus of the unifying force which connected all things.

Energy gave way to matter in a flash of light. Motion and enthalpy vied for the Jedi's attention. There were other states and attributes in Harry's metaphysical field of vision but these were the only ones which concerned the young man. Unlike those forces which came before them, these aspects of reality could be of use to Harry in the upcoming battle. He reached out and drew a single thread of these forces from the tapestry of reality around him. This ravine would be affected by this action, Harry had no doubt. He wouldn't be surprised if this place would become known for odd happenings for a time: the ravine would become erratically cold or hot and certain items may even freeze in their places from time to time. It wouldn't last forever. The more of the forces he used during the battle, the longer the duration, but eventually things would resume normality. The up side was that it would only affect non-living things. The Living Force would preserve the continuity of reality for any beings which stumbled into this gorge.

Returning to the present reality, he closed the connection to the Elder Wand tightly around those threads of the Cosmic Force. It wouldn't do to have his concentration slip mid-battle and the Cosmic Force overwhelm his senses as it did when he first initiated the connection.

He meditated, allowing the Force to fill him with purpose and fortitude of conviction.

The people of Naboo… these innocents were under the oppression of the greed of others. Under threat of violence, they were being held hostage against a girl who only wished to do the right thing. The ransom was a rape of their planet, the disruption of the delicate, unique and beautiful balance of the Force on that verdant world. As a protector of the balance of the Force, he could not stand for this.

Padme… a girl with the welfare of her entire planet placed upon her shoulders. Her presence was truly beautiful in the Force: innocent, pure, strong of will and steadfast in conviction. Her being resounded in the Force. She wielded a subconscious influence, the Force trailing after her in her words and actions as waves of sound trailing after a supersonic ship in atmosphere. Padme did not impose her will upon the Force. Indeed, she had not even been aware that it had been present in her life. Instead, she unknowingly let the Force guide her. Such a treasure of the Force should not be allowed to whither and fade. As such, it was his duty to see to her safety insofar as he was able.

The darksider who was approaching… There was no independent 'Dark Side' of the Force as so many Jedi believed. No, it was a personal perversion of the living flow of the Force. Midi-chlorians were symbiotes. They pervaded the universe and took sustenance from the metaphysical presence of physical reality. In turn, they offered to that physical reality a bridge into the Unifying Force. Naturally, the Force was meant to flow through the midi-chlorians in a unidirectional stream. To deny the will of the Force was to deny the power which flowed through the midi-chlorians. Darksiders, however, forced their will upon the midi-chlorians and manipulated them to work against to their metaphysical function. The darksider reached through the midi-chlorians and stole from the life-giving Force which sustained the galaxy. As sentient (if not sapient) beings, the midi-chlorians sought to reduce the pain they experience in the darksider's perversion of their natural function. They provide a feedback loop, a will which coincided with the will of the user: greed, anger, hatred, ambition for power. It was this false will of the Force which was the Dark Side. It was naught but the actions of tortured beings in an attempt to lessen their pain. This was an abomination which Harry could not tolerate.

Harry's eyes snapped open as the roar of a speeder bike began to fill the canyon. He sensed that the darksider had a new immediate objective. The general hatred towards Padme, his target, had been sharpened and was now directed towards himself. The assassin must have finally sensed his presence.

The finesse which he had come to associate with powerful ma'jaii darksiders was nowhere in sight. Voldemort had been an artist with his hate, sharpening it into a razor's edge and slicing away at the weak points of his opponents. While he blasted away at his enemies with pure power and skill, it was the insidious knife in the dark with which he felled his foes. This newcomer had none of that precision. He was the hammer upon the anvil, the blunt force of a falling boulder. This did not mean that Harry would let his guard down. No, it could very well be a ruse to lure him into a sense of overconfidence… or not. A boulder to the head can kill just as effectively as a knife in the back.

Harry stood and planned, spreading his mind over the gorge, creating a sympathetic link with the landscape, just as he had helped Yasin create. There would be no stumbling, no blind searches for handholds or sure footings. The land would be an extension of his body and would be utilized to its full extent.

The Force was urging him to stall for time until they could make their escape. He would try to keep his attacker at range for as long as possible. The Jedi did not think he would need his lightsaber. Master Yaddle had always been disapproving of how many Jedi relied solely upon their sabers. She had taught him to only use it when it was needed to deflect blaster fire and when he was convinced that he would need to kill his opponent. It was not a tool to be bandied about lightly. As such, Yaddle had drilled him constantly in unarmed lightsaber defense, even teaching him the rare technique which she, herself, practiced in similar situations. He was not nearly as proficient in it as his Master, but then again, he hadn't been practicing it for multiple centuries either.

The roar of the speeder bike reached a crescendo as it rocketed into view at the far end of the gorge. Harry was just able to make out a black robed figure with a splash of red peeking out from its cowl as he brought his open palms together with a loud crack. Two immense boulders resting on the parallel cliff faces shot towards the bike with speeds augmented by the Cosmic Force.

As expected, the assassin flipped free of his bike at the last moment. The spray of rubble and mangled machine propelled the darksider forward. He hit the ground in a roll. In a moment he was back on his feet to continue his charge, quickly closing the distance between himself and the Jedi.

Harry readied his second line of defense. Thrusting his mind outward, he attached his metaphysical extension to any loose stone in the general vicinity. With a mental jerk and a twist of the motion of the Cosmic Force, he set it spinning around him at break speed.

The assassin skidded to a halt at the outer edge of the small tornado of jagged stone. At this close distance, he could make out the assassin's face. His foe was a zabrak, or at least looked like a zabrak. Harry had never seen a zabrak with red and black markings etched into his skin. Intelligent bloodshot eyes shining the sickly yellow which was a side effect of dark force usage surveyed the field of stone with caution.

In an economy of movement, a long-handled lightsaber appeared in the darksider's hand. The familiar _snap-hiss_ accompanied the ignition of the familiar blood red blade from his visions. In a flash of movement, he swung the blade through the field of stones. A cherry-red band of molten rock added itself to the muted browns of the metamorphic stone. Slowly the ribbon cooled and broke apart into razor sharp needles, still suspended in Harry's twister.

The zabrak's eyes snapped to Harry's, a stare of pure hatred. ' _JEDI!_ ' seemed to be snarled soundlessly in the Force. The assassin dug the ball of his foot into the sand of the canyon floor. His yellow eyes flickered downwards to take in the motion. Harry followed his gaze.

A small cloud of dust had risen from where the assassin had dug his foot into the sand. It was quickly caught up by the wind generated by the field of stones.

Both Harry and the zabrak's eyes snapped back up simultaneously. The assassin's snarl of hate was replaced with a sneer and he gave a quiet sardonic laugh which the Jedi could barely hear over the _whiz_ of his stones cutting through the air. Harry's eyes widened as he realized his mistake.

The assassin thrust an open palm at the ground below him and the sand erupted into a cloud of dust which was quickly caught up in the field of stones. The now opaque wall of stone and wind had Harry trapped. The Jedi thrust his mind outwards in an attempt to locate the assassin, but the zabrak had hid himself behind mental shields. He was still out there, somewhere, but Harry had no idea where.

A surge of the Force had Harry bending backwards, his back now parallel with the ground. The assassin's thrown lightsaber flew through the cloud of debris with lightning speed and would have removed his head from his body, had he not been warned by the Force. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished into the opposite wall of the cyclone. Harry needed to get out of here and it needed to happen now.

With a mental heave, he flung his captured debris in every direction, letting its momentum take over the governance of it's movement. He bolted for a rock formation he had chosen before hand as his most likely point of exit from the ravine. If he could get to it, he could vault from crag to crag up the cliff face and onto the mesa above, the most likely place for his aerial extraction.

From the corner of his eye, Harry spotted the assassin dart out from behind a boulder to his left. He only made it half way to his destination before the zabrak caught up to him.

A glowing red blade swept towards him. Harry dropped to the ground and rolled. Footing was everything to a swordsman (and from the way this assassin carried himself, he had studied lightsaber swordsmanship) so Harry first targeted the man's legs.

Pivoting himself on his shoulders and hands, Harry spun his legs above his head in a circular motion and brought his leading foot down hard on the side of one of the zabrak's knees. With an audible crack, the knee buckled perpendicular to its natural flexion. The lightsaber came down on the back swing, the assassin using newly acquired forward momentum to guide his saber into a downward slash behind his back.

Continuing his momentum, Harry flung his feet back over his head, carrying his torso with it. With a great push against the ground, the Jedi flung himself to his feet, the crimson blade meeting nothing but air.

Spinning around, the zabrak struck out again, heavily favoring his uninjured leg, intending to bisect the Jedi at the waist. Harry sprung into the air and spun out of the assassin's reach, expecting the zabrak to follow up with another low counter.

Instead of the low strike the Jedi expected, the zabrak used the time to torque his dislocated knee back into position. By the time Harry had landed and began moving toward his intended escape route, the assassin was charging forward to engage him yet again.

As Harry dipped and dodged the red weapon, his mind raced to try to think of some way to disengage the assassin. He could feel the minds of the entire Nabooan Royal Party (Master Jinn, Obi-Wan, and Anakin included) moving steadily towards his position. He needed to get up onto the mesa for extraction as soon as possible.

Unbidden, his encounter with Professor Quirrell in his first year came to mind. It seemed the Force was trying to tell him something.

That might actually work…

Harry prepared himself to use tutaminis. It was his ace-in-the-hole. Once used, the zabrak would continue to expect it and he would lose the element of surprise. Still dodging the zabrak's skilled attacks with ever growing effort, Harry reinforced the channels of the Force in his left palm. Ma'jaii naturally evolved to be able to safely conduct much more energy than a standard human. As such, they had a higher capacity to practice tutaminis. He had practiced with Yaddle and had even held her lightsaber blade when turned up to full power.

This, however, would be different. Harry had only ever practiced with Force-neutral energies before. The zabrak's lightsaber was imbued with the darkside. He could feel the taint as the blade swiped through the air, attempting to end his life. He remembered the sensations he had felt during his quick visions. It would be painful to retain such energies until such a time when he could focus during meditation and release them into the Unifying Force.

There!

The assassin yet again slashed at his torso, the blade attempting to make contact with his left side. Instead of dodging, Harry moved in close. He grabbed the lightsaber mid blade, blocking the slash.

Pain.

It was not the searing pain of burned skin or a cauterized wound but the agonizing rot of corruption, the icy touch of venom, winding through his veins. The dark side was poison winding its way into his mind, his soul. His will rebelled and the Force surged to meet this invader. It was a metaphysical struggle encapsulated in the blink of an eye, but Harry was able to isolate the corruption to his left arm, still holding tight to the lightsaber.

A flicker of surprise flashed across the zabrak's face. Now was his chance!

Wrapping that neglected enthalpic thread of the Cosmic Force around his right hand (and making sure that it was directed away from his skin) he drew as much heat to the surface of the Unifying Force as he dared. In a flash, said hand clamped upon the side of the assasin's face.

There was a microsecond of silence in which the zabrak's mind raced to process what had just happened.

Then the screaming started.

 *****Rated M content begin*****

Harry's foe let out a blood curdling scream of agony as the skin of his face bubbled and charred around the Jedi's fingers. Smoke curled up from ruptured skin as the thin subcutaneous layer of fat in the zabrak's face reached its flash point and caught fire. Harry could feel his foe's eye under his thumb burst as the intraocular fluid expanded in the heat, dripping from the socket in a bubbling and hissing mess.

 *****Rated M content end*****

Not wasting any time, the Jedi firmly planted his left foot and kicked out with his right against the assassin's chest. The zabrak was flung backwards, ripping his lightsaber and face from Harry's grasp. The Jedi turned and ran for his escape route. He just made it to the crag when the screams of pain behind him turned into a great roar of rage, signaling that the assassin had finally transformed his own agony into fuel for his perversion of the Force.

Harry did not look back as he sprung up the rock formation onto the cliff face, springing from one formation to the next in a mad scramble to reach the top. He could feel the ship above him now, hovering just over the lip of the mesa.

Finally reaching the top, Harry paused for a split second to calculate the distance and height he would need to obtain to make it to the ramp of the hovering ship above him. He took a running start and fed the entirety of his remaining reserves of power into his leap.

The Jedi caught a glimpse of Master Jinn and Obi-Wan at the top of the lowered boarding ramp, lightsabers engaged and ready, before he fell in a heap on the cool textured metal, utterly exhausted.

Mustering enough strength, he pushed himself onto his back to try to locate the assassin. To his shock, the zabrak was already in the air, lightsaber ready, his burnt and disfigured face twisted into a visage of wild fury.

He would make the ramp. There was no doubt in Harry's mind about that. The assassin's height and speed were perfectly suited for a stable landing. There was no concern, however, in Harry's mind. The Force rushed to fill and console him.

Three meters.

Harry raised his left arm, and pointed his open palm at his enraged foe.

Two meters.

The Jedi took hold of the dark energies still coursing an agonizing path up and down his left arm, bounded only by his will and the Force.

One meter.

He pushed.

A thick bolt of orange lightning surged forth from Harry's palm at the assassin, striking the zabrak in the chest. The impact knocked the leaping man from the sky, plowing him into the dusty rock of the mesa below.

Harry collapsed back onto the gangway. He vaguely registered hands pulling him back into the body of the ship before he closed his eyes and knew no more.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, that was my first try at writing a fight scene. How did it go?**


	6. Research and Updates

**A/N:** TWO CHAPTERS! Chapter 6 is finally up and Chapter 8 is a bonus for waiting so long. All I have to say is that RL comes first and I'm not sorry for that. While I enjoy the feedback I receive on this sight, my personal relationships and my loved ones come first.

On Tatooine's climate

I have given the climate of Tatooine some thought upon the climate of the desert planet due to a reader's review. I crunched the math on the statistics of Tatooine's atmosphere and have come to the conclusion that 'moisture farming' would be impossible if it was the air which was being farmed for moisture. Wookieepedia gives the average humidity on Tatooine as 5.4%. Now the question is raised, is this absolute humidity or relative humidity. If it is absolute humidity, then the number is frankly ridiculous for a desert planet. The absolute maximum saturation of the air at 100°F and standard pressure is about 7-8%. This would put it's relative humidity (the number we would see on our weather forecasts) from between 67.5% and 77.14%. A 5.4% relative humidity would make more sense for the notoriously dry planet. This would give it an absolute humidity of 0.378% to 0.432%, not nearly enough to farm for moisture and nowhere near the amount needed for Harry to use _aguamenti_. To put this into perspective, Harry would need to drain 10.8 cubic kilometers of air of all of its water vapor to meet Watto's needs.

I see moisture farming as one of two possible ways, only one of which is feasible given what little we know about the process. The first is through the mysterious mists produced at rare times through complicated chemical exchanges along rocky outcroppings of the desert (according to wookieepedia). These would only require condensers to remove the water vapor from the air. This is most likely not the case, as we know that evaporators are involved in the process of moisture farming (Shmi was kidnapped when returning from picking mushrooms which grew on the evaporators). As such, it hints that water is evaporated out of another captured liquid. The second option I have come up with has to do with Tatooine's dune seas, which Wookieepedia states are high in sodium. Sodium compounds are typically desiccants. They naturally absorbs water. My view of moisture farming is that the farmers take portions of the deserts' sands, run it through a solvent to extract the sodium and captured water, along with other soluble minerals, and then run that solution through the evaporators to separate the water. It is then run through a condenser to produce liquid water.

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Research and Updates**

Harry brought his training saber up to deflect the droid's glowing blade as it attempted to smash through his defenses with a technique which the training archives described as an 'assured strike'. He spun to his left, causing the pure strength behind the strike sliding down his angled blade not only miss it's target completely but lend its power to Harry's retaliatory deflecting slash. The droid, set to the reflexive levels of the originator of this lightsaber form variant, dodged the sweeping strike and retreated a step to prepare to deliver yet another staccato sequence.

The Jedi knight refused to allow the droid room to prepare and closed the distance. He glanced a stabbing blow against the droid's saber to draw forth a hasty guard. As expected, the guard pushed the saber up and to the left. According to the archives, Juyo was an entirely offensive form. It had few blocks, and those which it did almost assuredly were followed by an attempt to reengage into the form's strength: attack. Again, Harry spun with the blade, this time dropping his momentum to the floor. He twisted on the ball of one foot bringing his twisting saber down and around behind his back in a stab which struck the droid in the side: a killing blow.

Harry rose from his place on the floor, panting from the exertion. The droid disengaged the training program with the finishing strike and returned itself to its charging station.

"I've never seen that particular combination of Ataru and Soresu before."

Harry turned to see who had snuck up on him as he practiced. A human male Jedi stood leaning against the wall next to the private training salle's door. Long hair, more grey than brown, framed a chiseled but placid face as the newcomer surveyed the ma'jaii with eyes the color of ancient ice.

"Master Drallig," Harry gave a small bow of respect to the Order's battlemaster. Currently the commander of the Temple Guard, the man also oversaw the martial training of the Order, whether that be the youngling's first instruction on Form Zero or advanced specialized combat training such as Jar'kai or Tespzest, which he taught to the winged members of the Order using a jetpack. There were a handful of members of the Order who were more skilled with a blade (Master Yaddle included) but none held the depth of technical, historical and practical knowledge of lightsaber combat than he.

Now that Harry thought about it, he probably should have consulted Master Drallig first before embarking upon his current project.

"I took some of the basics from Ataru and Soresu and even a little footwork from Makashi. But the basic philosophy of the style doesn't fit any of the forms," the master pushed off the wall with one foot and circled the young knight, rubbing his chin in thought as he reconstructed the style in his mind.

"No, I don't think it would," he snapped his eyes to pin Harry with a questioning stare, "You're Yaddle's padawan, aren't you? Potter?" Harry nodded, "Well, that explains the clearance," the master muttered under his breath. Before the young ma'jaii could question this odd statement, the master addressed him again, "She is always one to think outside of the box. Glad to see she passed that on. There is a good deal more body choreography present than in traditional lightsaber forms. Most of it is utilitarian, but there are a few flourishes still present which are basically aesthetic. Did you develop this from a dance?" Harry nodded in affirmation.

The knight cocked his head slightly in the direction of the bench where he had laid his towel and canteen in an unasked question. Drallig signaled his assent with an open gesture and followed the younger man to the bench. With one hand, Harry flipped open the lid of his canteen and drained half of its contents as the other vigorously wiped away the cooling sweat which was pooling on his face and hands in addition to the sopping mess which was his hair. He really should see the Temple barbers soon.

"Master Yaddle took me to Jedha for a few months once. One of our trips to the city for supplies coincided with a harvest festival. They had different dances which imitated the natural forces of the landscape and Master told me to learn one as a study in motion. I chose the Dance of the Kaspaar, a type of electrically charged whirlwind. I've been tinkering with it ever since," the Master seated himself on the bench as Harry sank to the floor to do his cool down stretches.

"The hermitage moon? Huh. I'm guessing that the underlying principle is fluidity and movement. I can see where the Ataru and Soresu come in, even the Makashi if it comes from a dance. It definitely fills a void found in the other forms. Ataru is purely focused around the opponent, basically treating the enemy as a fixed point and revolving around them. Soresu, while fluid, is purely focused upon static defense and can be rather stationary."

"Close master," Harry explained, swinging his legs out into a split, "while fluidity and movement are very positive side effects to the style, the primary philosophy behind it is the absorption and transfer of momentum. The Kaspaars of Jedha start off small but grow every time they meet a wind which does not directly oppose them. They circle around the current, bleeding off some of the wind into itself. The same with the form; I bleed off inertia from the strikes of my opponents through glancing blocks and feed it into my own speed. Tutaminis can help transfer the inertia to a greater extent, but the style can be used effectively without it. Just takes longer to build up speed. The most vulnerable point in the form is the very beginning before I build up a good amount of speed. If I am forced to stop and commit to a full block or saber lock, then the momentum is lost and I have to start from scratch."

"I would be interested to see more of this style at a later time, but I'm afraid that I'm here for a different purpose," Harry paused in his stretching to look up at the battlemaster, "I must ask why you are interested in Juyo," the knight blinked. Had he done something wrong?

"On my last mission, I encountered a darksider combatant who used a lightsaber in a form which I was unfamiliar with," Master Drallig's eyebrows rose in surprise, "When I landed and was debriefed by Master Yaddle, she suggested research into the style to try to track the attacker's origin."

"I suppose Master Yaddle granted you the clearance codes to access the restricted archives, didn't she?" the human asked.

"I didn't know I was searching anything restricted," Harry shrugged, "I haven't been issued a personal compu-pad yet, so Yaddle had me use the archive terminal in her office. Juyo most closely resembled the style the attacker used, but there were so many variations from a number of sources. I needed a more concrete demonstration to figure out which was the style of my attacker, so I downloaded them and plugged them into the training droid to find out which specific one it most closely resembled," Harry cocked his head at said droid in its charging station, "I figured if we could find the exact variation, we may be able to track where the darksider learned it," Drallig looked concerned.

"Were you able to determine the origin?" Harry nodded.

"That last one. It most closely resembled my opponent's form. There was a twist of the wrist in the assured strike which I didn't find in any of the other variations. The archives said it was created by a Jedi by the name of Bane about a thousand years ago."

"Bane was no Jedi," Drallig said shaking his head. It may have been the lighting, but Harry thought that the human master had gone pale at the name of the form's originator, "Darth Bane was a Sith apostate. He hoarded his knowledge and power, only instructing those who apprenticed directly under him. He believed that the Sith should have only a single apprentice to pass on his knowledge. The prospective learners would have to kill the former apprentice to take their place. Bane's final apprentice was killed by a Jedi Master. According to our records, he did not take a second apprentice on for training before his death. His entries in the archives are under heavy restriction and any evidence the Jedi found of him in the greater galaxy was ordered destroyed by the High Council. I only came across the entries when working with Master Windu when we archived Vaapad on the Great Holocron. The only way he could have passed on his knowledge that I can think of is that he trained another apprentice and hid their existence from both the Republic and the Jedi."

Harry swallowed heavily. The Sith were the Jedi's boogie men. Fictional horror stories were not allowed in the creche, but often older padawans told their younger counterparts stories of the Sith which they had looked up in the archives as a suitable replacement. Some of the crueler padawans told the younglings that if they weren't good, that the Sith would snatch them away when they least expected it. Harry remembered when Corda, one of his crechemates, had cried herself to sleep for a week after she had broken their crechemaster's 'pad, scared that the Sith would come in the night to kidnap her.

The Sith were true monsters as Harry had learned in depth during his shadow training but they were extinct monsters, at least that was what he had been taught. Now it seemed that some of the teachings of the Sith had been handed down, at least. At worst, the dark Order had been in hiding all these years.

"Convening to discuss this issue after rest period, the High Council will be," both men turned to see Master Yaddle standing in the doorway to the training salle. Harry's former master always a way of popping up unnoticed. Privately, Harry thought it was usually just for her own amusement but the knight could see the gravity of the conversation she had just eavesdropped on weighing heavily on her mind, "Explain this style's origins to the Council, would you Master Drallig? Much appreciated your expertise on this issue, would be," said master gave the elf a slight bow.

"I will research the topic in more depth and present my findings at the Council's leisure. By your leave, High Councilor," the battlemaster waited for Yaddle's nod of assent before striding out of the salle. Harry raised an eyebrow at his Master.

"Should I also start showering you with honorifics, oh Chief Cleaner of the Library's Dusty Shelves?" he have his master a lopsided grin. A common punishment for wayward padawans, archive duty was commonly referred to as 'shelf dusting' as the only real duties they were given was to man the information desk and to clean the archive by hand.

"Respect, you have never shown in the past. Start now, you should not," she wagged a finger at him in mock reprimand, "Combat skill, Cin Drallig respects. More skill you possess, more formal he becomes. Easier, it is, to mold your actions to a perceived image. Results you will achieve," the elf's face softened as she spoke to her former padawan, processing the information she had received and gradually shifting back to her usual happy self.

"Do you have to manipulate everyone, Master?" Harry asked teasingly.

"Hmmm. Manipulate you I do. Why stop if works, it does?" Harry conceded the point. As a padawan, the elf could play him like a fiddle to do things he did not want to do, "Get a shower. Have something to show you, I do."

* * *

"How did _this_ happen, Master?" Harry whispered in awe as he and his master slowly walked through the large room. _This_ was the largest youngling creche the ma'jaii had ever seen in the Temple. Row upon row of cots and bassinets spread across the floor. While the sheer number astounded him (there had to be a hundred sleeping toddlers laid out before him) it was their species that astounded him. They were all Terrans. He could see ma'jaii children, centaur foals, elflings and many, many more species which had their origins in the Sol System. There was even a large aquarium set up along one wall which held small stone warrens just large enough for young mer to inhabit but still feel safe.

" _Hm hm hm hm_ ," Yaddle chuckled softly, "Think you did, that forget your actions so quickly, Sol would? No. Out of their reach, you were, so associate themselves to the Jedi Order, the great families wished to do. Rejected, many of these candidates were due to low ability in the Force, but fulfilled the requirements of the Order, some did. Orphans, most of the younglings are. A new life we give them here. Six hundred we brought back from Sol. Many more, we could have taken, but room in the creche we had not. A praxeum on Terra, the Council of First Knowledge is contemplating for next year. Open some of the auxiliary Temples, we may, for training programs in the future," the elven master said with a smile.

Harry choked on his spit. The Order had been in steady decline since the Ruusan Reformation a millennium ago. Gradually the auxiliary Temples, once great centers of learning and culture in the various sectors of the galaxy, closed their doors to the formation of new Jedi and reverted to simple Jedi outposts in distant sectors due, in part, to the falling numbers of the Order. To put it into perspective, the incoming class of younglings the year after the Reformations numbered above seven thousand. Harry's class had only been three hundred.

"Both overjoyed and cursing our names, the creche masters are," she said with another soft chuckle, referring to her place on the Council of First Knowledge, "Only four are the current Terrans in the Order. Back to the Temple, Master Fay has not been in a century and a half. Out of contact, you were. Too busy to help, Yoda was. Only source of Terran information, I was. Eleven new species, they had, with almost no knowledge for the younglings' care."

Yaddle carefully clambered up the side of a seemingly random bassinett. The middle-aged elf gently removed the sphinx cub's tail from where she had been unconsciously sucking it. Harry noticed the child's sharp teeth and understood. If the cub had accidently bitten down in her sleep, she would have hurt herself.

"But more than new younglings, your departure from Terra has brought us. Left us with quite a mess, you have," she said without looking away from the youngling. He blinked, confused, "The 'Terran Collective', Sol and her children have started to call themselves. Formed a parliamentary government they have. A hand in that, I believe Ms. Granger had," Harry wasn't surprised. Hermione had been the most politically minded of his inner circle so it was natural that she took up the reins in his absence. Daphne Greengrass or Draco Malfoy probably could have done it but there were factors weighing against their favor. Daphne had been primarily focused on the Terran resistance alongside Neville. Unlike Neville, she did not have much contact with the other interplanetary leaders. Draco, on the other hand, was in the thick of the interplanetary resistance but was generally treated with distrust despite (or maybe because of) his desertion of the Dark to the Light. He was still somewhat of a prick, but he was a prick with good intentions.

"What is the problem then?" Harry asked, "The Order should be happy that they are moving away from the concept of a Merlin towards self-governance."

"Parliament, Harry. A _parliamentary_ government it is," she said, trying to impress some subtle meaning upon him as she hopped down from the bassinet. They turned down yet another row of sleeping infants.

It clicked.

 _Oh no._

"They still want me as Merlin," the knight stated, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

"Demand it, they do. Give you more freedom, parliament will but ultimate authority you would still wield. For now, to form their government, the High Council will allow the Terrans. Once formed, hope to encourage them to join the Republic, we do. A ceremonial role, the Republic will force them to give you in accordance with the Reformations. A long process, it will be, but assurances from Chancellor Valorum we have that against the Order or you, no charges will be brought if eventually join the Republic, the Terran Collective will."

"I guess there is nothing to be done about it, I'm going to have to go back for the consecration, aren't I?" Harry asked, dreading the answer. His former master seemed to find his trepidation humorous, the damned green imp. She laughed at him.

"A dark assassin, you have just battled, and a coronation you fear," her soft chuckles died down but the gleam did not depart from her eyes, "Scared of a crown you are. And the banquets. And filling your privy council. The fittings. Planetary tours. Courtiers…" she trailed off. The knight sighed and turned to face his master. He was waiting for Yaddle to continue. She always saved the worst for last when she went on like this.

"Out with it. What's the worst of it?"

"Want a dynasty, they do. Tradition it is," Yaddle explained to a mentally groaning ma'jaii.

"They want me to have children? What happened to the Reformations?" he asked, desperate. A nearby elfling whimpered in his sleep and Harry clamped down on his mental shields, not wanting to wake the children with stray emotions, "No attachment? Children are kind of high on the list of assured attachments."

"The rules, when have you ever followed?" she asked with a shrug, "An Iseult, they also desire."

The Terrans didn't just want him to sire children in a political marriage, like Master Ki-Adi-Mundi in his cultural position as King of Cerea. An Iseult was a life-partner tied to a Merlin through the Force. It was the closest thing you could get to the stereotypical 'soulmate'. The Terran Collective wanted _romance_.

"Oh, come on!" Harry exclaimed a little too loudly

The children nearest them wailed their protest at being rudely awoken from their naps. It was only but a few moments before the entire hall was filled with the cries of younglings. The doors that led to the crechemasters' quarters burst open. A small group of crechemasters and a veritable army of nanny droids flooded into the room to attend to their charges. A harassed looking wookiee crechemaster glared at them from across the room and simply pointed at the door. The message was clear: Leave now or face my wrath.

Both master and former apprentice made their swift retreat.

* * *

"… Upon submitting my initial report to Master Yaddle as my primary point of contact for the mission, she suggested I research the unfamiliar lightsaber style my attacker used to try to gain insight into his origins," Harry explained from his position beside Obi-Wan and Master Jinn in at the center of the High Council chambers. Master Jinn had already finished his report and was patiently waiting for Harry to do the same. All in all, they had been standing in the same position for the past hour and a half, "I was able to identify the style as Juyo, specifically the Banite variation."

"Banite, you say?" Master Koon queried, looking to Master Windu with a tilt of the head. The Master of the Order met the kel dor's gaze for the briefest of moments before shifting in his seat to look at Yaddle. He gave her a slow blink.

What followed was what Yaddle had sometimes termed a 'physical conversation'. Buried within the rare rant about the childish debates being flung around the High Council at times, she had explained that the members sometimes held entire conversations using neither their mouths or their minds. The members knew each other well enough that entire discussions could take place using only the slightest of gestures. Obi-Wan appeared totally lost at the display but Master Jinn followed the conversation with great interest. Harry was somewhere in the middle, being able to translate some of his former master's movements.

A twitch of the ear: _I don't necessarily agree with what you said._

A minute quirk of the eyebrow: _You really think that?_

Slightly pursed lips: _You are simply being stubborn._

A small sigh: _I have already explained this to you._

The stubborn tilt of the jaw: _I stand by my actions._

The conversation sped up and even Harry lost his master's translation. It appeared that Yaddle was defending herself. Finally, she spoke up.

"To myself, my suspicions I have kept. Harry's conclusions these are," she affirmed with a slight nod in his direction.

"You must admit that it is awfully convenient," Master Koth said from his place in the circle, "You have brought us suspicions of a Sith for years and once you are ordered not to bring it up again until you have further evidence, your former padawan supposedly provides such evidence," Koth's hypnotic voice washed over Harry and he fought to keep his eyes open. Apart from his swordsmanship, the zabrak master was known emanating peace and tranquility. While it made him an excellent negotiator, it also sometimes hit those around him with full force without warning. There was even a rumor amongst the younglings that Koth had lulled a rampaging rancor into a deep slumber simply by reciting poetry at it.

"Coincidences, there are none for a Jedi," she rebutted as if speaking to one of her younglings, "Only the will of the Force there is," Koth gave the elf a flat look but the green master just replied with an innocent smile, having just been rebutted with one of his own frequent platitudes.

Harry desperately wanted to roll his eyes. Yaddle had mentioned that the High Council could devolve into childish bickering. The ma'jaii had always taken the complaint as evidence that Yaddle held herself above such petty actions. It was clear now, however, that even she was susceptible to childishness.

"I can show one of you," the knight interjected. All the eyes in the room swiveled away from the bickering to focus on Harry, "While I cannot enact a full memory transfer with my broken connection to the Living Force," only Master Jinn and Obi-Wan reacted to that news, looking at him with concern, "I can use a racial force technique which can induce a memory transfer in a human or near-human and then that master can transfer the memory to the rest of you," the knight resisted the urge to squirm under the intense stares.

"I'll do it," Master Windu finally stated, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Harry nodded.

"I must warn you, Master, legilimency is rather unpleasant for non-ma'jaii. You may wish to raise your mental shields fully before we begin. It should cut down on any unintended interaction between our minds," the korun simply raised an eyebrow.

"I think I will be fine, Potter. You can begin when you're ready."

Well, at least they couldn't say that Harry hadn't given fair warning.

"I will need you to maintain eye contact, Master, if you would," Harry took a few steps forward so that he could have a more focused view of the Master's eyes. While legilimency could be used at range, as Albus had been wont to do, a detailed view of their target's eyes was easier for one who was not a master of the mind arts.

Windu stared into Harry's eyes resolute. With a flash, the elder wand was in the knight's hand and pointed at the bridge of korun's nose. Only the slight widening of Windu's eyes betrayed the master's surprise at the ma'jaii's quick draw.

" _Legilimens_!" The whispered spell echoed unnaturally within the circular chamber, its metaphysical shockwave battering against shields of the Jedi present. Windu was thrown backwards in his seat, his head slamming against his chair's headrest with an audible _thump_. The korun's eyes were fixed upon the knight, glassy and unseeing.

The spell thrust Harry's mind forward, shredding through the Master of the Order's half-raised shields like a rampaging rancor through the jungle of Felucia. The knight found himself swimming in the library of sensations and emotions in the deepest recesses of the master's mind: hunger, discomfort, itch, displeasure, peace, elation, arousal. He had gone _far_ too deep into Windu's mind. He really wished he could un-feel that last one. Blindly he swam away from the master's emotival sense-memory towards the outer mental shields he had punched through.

Slowly, sensation shifted to coherent memory. A smoky-sour-burning flavor gradually shifted to the memory of the first time Windu had tasted his favorite variety of brandy; sharp pain as Master Yoda twisted Padawan Windu's ear when he had snuck back into his chambers smelling like a distillery; the same padawan locked in a steamy and intoxicated kiss with a rather beautiful and buxom crimson twi'lek; Knight Windu nursing a hangover in a Corellian drunk tank as he waited for his padawan to bail him out; Master Windu winning a well-aged bottle of brandy in a game of sabaac against a faleen prince, an orange humanoid pirate queen whose species Harry couldn't identify, two senators from the Outer Rim and – Harry did metaphysical double-take at the memory – was that Master Yaddle?

Finally, Harry pulled himself out of the whole he had torn through the master's shields. The spell was gross overkill, but it was the only thing in Harry's repertoire of spells which could even come close to a memory transfer sans a pensieve. He drew the memory of his encounter with the assassin to the forefront of his own mind and gently pressed it to man's shields. The knight waited until the memory had been completely absorbed before gently extracting himself from the metaphysical contact.

Obviously, it was not nearly gentle enough.

The moment Harry broke contact, Windu hunched forward in his seat, pale and sweating. With a flick of his wand, the knight conjured a metal bucket in the master's lap. The master gave a few feeble dry heaves into the bucket before regaining his composure. The korun glared at Harry for a moment before sitting back in his chair, collecting himself. Another flick of the Elder Wand dispelled the conjuration.

"Sith hells!" the Master of the Order swore. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Yaddle don the tight-lipped expression she wore when she was attempting to stifle her laughter.

"I did mention that the process was unpleasant, Master," Harry deadpanned. A snort escaped one of the counselors. From the direction and the slightly synthetic notes of a vocabulator, the knight safely assumed it was Master Koon.

Windu narrowed his eyes at Harry's impudence for a moment before closing them to review the new memory. The ma'jaii could see the korun master's eyes dart back and forth beneath his eyelids.

"While I am inclined to agree with you that this is a variety of Juyo," Windu stated after a few moments, "I'm not familiar with the specific variation."

"Prepared a report for us, Master Drallig has. Waiting for our summons, he is," Yaddle explained, blatantly ignoring Koth's displeased glare. The Master of the Order opened his eyes and acknowledge her statement with a nod.

"If you have nothing further," Windu addressed the three non-councilors standing in the center of the room, "you are dismissed. May the Force be with you."

Harry and Obi-Wan bowed to the councilors in unison and turned to leave. This was purely a mission report inquiry. The knight knew that Yaddle wouldn't bring up the petition to accept Anakin into the Order until after they had left. All formal motions and procedures of the High Council were made behind closed doors. It wasn't until Harry heard Grandmaster Yoda's voice that he realized that Master Jinn had not joined them.

"Master Qui-Gon, more to say have you?"

Harry turned to see that the human master had not shown any deference to the blatant dismissal and was instead standing resolute under the questioning stares of the High Council.

"With your permission, my Master. I have encountered a vergence in the Force."

 _What?_

"A vergence, you say?" Yoda asked with a tilt of his head. Evidently he too was interested in where this would lead.

"Located around a person?" Windu asked. To Harry, it was a jump in logic but he wasn't the master here.

"A boy…" Jinn explained, "His cells have the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have seen in a life form. It is possible he was conceived by midi-chlorians.

'A boy? Anakin? He was a _boy_ , as in male _._ He couldn't have been conceived by midi-chlorians. It wasn't physically possible…' Harry's line of thought came to a screeching halt. Memories of the Sith he had fought and a rather drawn out line of Hermione questions in a Theory of the Force class from his sixth year, 'Well, at least it wasn't naturally possible.'

"You're referring to the prophesy of the one who will bring balance to the Force…" Windu questioned, oblivious to the thoughts racing through Harry's mind, "You believe it's this boy?"

Oh… There was no karking way Harry was going to let someone else be drawn into this prophesy _chssk_. It also didn't help that the Force was practically screaming at him to do something, anything, before a huge mistake was made.

"I'm sorry masters but I must object!" Harry said hastily, returning to his spot next to Jinn at the center of the room, leaving Obi-Wan standing awkwardly near the door.

"Object you do?" Yoda asked, "To what?"

"That Anakin is a vergence… that he was conceived by the Force herself… and that prophesy should influence any action we take regarding his future."

"Explain!" Windu growled out in annoyance. Harry hoped that the Master of the Order's displeasure was simply caused by Jinn's refusal to leave them to their deliberation and not directed at himself.

"First, Anakin is not a vergence in the Force. Vergences are the direct workings of the Force in the physical world. The ma'jaii's historical records span back hundreds of thousands of years back to even before the ma'jaii were genetically distinct from the human species. There have been numerous recorded instances of both humans and ma'jaii being conceived by midi-chlorians. While rare, they do crop up every couple of hundred years or so. Typically, they are more in tune with the Force than the average Force-sensitive but generally lead normal lives. There is no automatic greatness which is to be ascribed to them. At most, Anakin's act of conception could be considered a vergence, not Anakin himself. He is his own person, not a puppet of the Force," Harry could see a handful of the masters nodding thoughtfully along to his words, Master Yoda included. Yaddle was giving Harry a small but proud smile. Heartened, the knight continued.

"Secondly, it is genetically impossible for Anakin to be directly conceived by midi-chlorians. Midi-chlorians were originally synthesized from the mitochondria from cells of the Force-sensitive human population which eventually evolved into the ma'jaii. Human mitochondrial DNA is…"

"BLASPHEMY!" Koth cried out, rising to his feet, "It is forbidden to speak of the scientific manipulation of midi-chlorians. They are the direct creation of the Force itself. They are the gifts given to us so that we might experience the greater reality of the universe past the petty limitations of physicality. They…"

"Sit down, Master Koth."

Windu's words swept through the High Council chamber like an icy wind. There was no request in his words. Only command. The two masters locked gazes and for a moment Harry could swear that he could physically feel the tension between the two of them. Eventually, Windu came out the winner and Koth reseated himself.

"I assume, due to your newly elected position on this Council, Master Koth, that you have not yet availed yourself of your unrestricted privilege to study the sealed archives. It is wholly your prerogative to study what you wish, but I ask you not to judge areas of discussion to which you are unfamiliar. Knight Potter is correct. The Force predated the creation of midi-chlorians by the ma'jaii's ancestors," Windu glanced back at Harry, "If I remember correctly, midi-chlorians were created as a response to a biological weapon formulated to attack those who were not Force-sensitive," Windu received a nod from Harry in affirmation, "If that is all," Windu's eyes flickered to Koth and returned to focus on Harry once more, "please continue."

"Erm, yes," Harry began, "Midi-chlorians were developed using mitochondria. In humans, the only DNA found in mitochondria is the half sequence receive from the mother. Human genetics require at least one male chromosome to create a male child. As neither the mother nor midi-chlorians possesses any male DNA, a child naturally conceived by midi-chlorians _must_ be female. All the recorded historical instances of natural midi-chlorian conception are female. Anakin is male. Thus, he could not have naturally been conceived by midi-chlorians. How the boy was conceived without a father, I don't know. But it could not have been through midi-chlorians alone," Windu and the other masters' faces were impassive at this revelation so Harry continued.

"Lastly, I must object to any mention of prophesy with regards to the boy," Windu simply raised a eyebrow in question, "I have been the subject of a prophesy myself and I must say that the revelation of a prophesy, even a true prophesy, creates more problems than they solve and more often than not. Prophesy is somewhat of a blend of Soothsaying and Force visions. Masters, you know how inaccurate visions can be. They are resonances in the Force about the most probable future outcome based on the present instant. Like Soothsaying, this future seen in the vision resonates in the present in the form of words. Prophesy simply foretells the most likely course of action the future can take whereas Soothsaying resonates within the person's own fate. Sooth is about yourself. Prophesy is about others and, as such can be wrong. With every person who believes in the prophesy, the future shifts away from the static probability found in the instance of the prophesy. There are hundreds of prophesies monitored by my race's researchers which are now defunct because the future which had been foretold was no longer possible because of unforeseen events which shifted the course of the future away from the prophesy," Harry realized that he had gotten caught up in what he was saying and was gesturing with his hands to emphasize his point. Slightly embarrassed, he repositioned his hands in his sleeves before continuing.

"Maybe the prophesy is about Anakin. Maybe it isn't. If it is, then to treat his case any differently than other Jedi is to shift the future away from the one predicted in the prophesy. You lessen your chances of success simply by acknowledging the prophesy."

Silence.

It was so quiet that Harry could make out the separate sounds of some of the masters' breathing over the slight drone of the room's temperature regulator.

Eventually, Yoda _hmmm_ ed and the tension disappeared.

"We will discuss this further in Council," Windu declared, "You are dismissed," the korun shot a glare at Master Jinn, "All of you… May the Force be with you."


	7. A Trip to the Temple

*******THE NEW CHAPTER 5 HAS BEEN POSTED! ********

* * *

 **Reviews:**

 **Lokarryn:** Yep. You got it in one. That was exactly what I was going for. I have some one-shots floating around in my head about Harry dealing with some of the residual issues which resulted from his enslavement, but that will be written way in the future, if ever. I'm not even going to touch those stories until I at least get Book 1 and the Interlude done.

 **Reptoholic:** Yep, Yaddle is awesome, as seen below. Will Harry be able to free both Shmi and Anakin? Maybe. You'll have to wait and see. I have a pairing in mind for Shmi, so no, she won't be with Harry, but she will be in the story (or the side story one-shots).

 **Ariadne Venegas:** Will Harry take Anakin as his Padawan?... Maybe?... You'll have to read and find out.

 **Guest on Sept. 3:** Yep, I kind of just wanted at least a tiny amount of fluff so I wrote that last scene. The content on the HP side is somewhat lacking. The HP/SW fusion will kind of slap us in the face during the Interlude between the two movies. This is my take of HP tens of thousands of years in the future. Humans fled Earth due to a plague long ago and spread throughout the galaxy. Alone on Earth, the witches and wizards, along with the magical creatures evolved and mutated into what they are in the story. Hogwarts has grown. Ma'jaii and magical creatures have colonized the solar system and the nearby star systems. Like the magicals of HP canon, they are very reclusive. This, however will begin to change with Harry's influence and we will hopefully see a little bit of this (if it flows with the chapter) in the real chapter 6.

 **JKArcanus** **:** Thank you. I wouldn't go so far as to say that she won't become a senator. Remember, it was Queen Jamilla's request in the canon. This still may happen. Harry specifically told Padme to use her political influence for a positive change in the galaxy. She may see the opportunity to become a senator as a possibility to continue that work after her term as Queen ends. Palpatine's machinations... let me just tell you that Palpatine is going to s**t a brick during the senate meeting.

 **Thank you to everyone else who reviewed!**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: A Trip to the Temple**

Padme had to admit that she was rather in awe of the Jedi Temple. Harry had pointed out its distant silhouette on a monitor as they had made their approach to the diplomatic landing stages, but the immensity of the grand building had not hit her now. What had once been a grey cut-out against the generic blue of the Coruscant sky was now a silent monolith rising above her. The twists and turns of the city-planet's traffic patterns had masked their approach amongst gaudy neon signage and a blending of metal, plastics, and glass. Gone was the grandeur and elegance of the upper levels, replaced by the day to day bustle which was the lifeblood of this world. The aero-cab which Sergeant Bisk, her assigned security detail, had hired had taken a sharp turn past a multi-level market and suddenly there it was, five or six blocks in front of her.

They gradually drifted to a stop at the edge of a large void left between the civilian structures and the Temple itself. Looking down out of her window, Padme saw that the walls of the Temple stretched downwards into the inky depths of Coruscant's deepest levels. Harry had mentioned that the Temple was actually shaped like a pyramid with a flat top, despite appearing to be rectangular. He had called it a 'ziggurat'. The queen could see that he had been correct, as she could just barely make out the slope to the side of the building. It was due to the fact that the Temple was so tall that it appeared to have straight sides from a distance. She wondered just how far down the building actually went.

"Why did we stop?" Sergeant Bisk's gravelly voice cut through the quiet white noise generated by the aero-cab's sound dampeners. The togrutan pilot turned in her seat to give Padme and Bisk a side view of her face. She looked young, most likely in her early twenties.

"Nothing to be worried about, Sir, Ma'am," she said with a reassuring smile, "I can't fly into the Temple's security cordon without proper clearance. I've hailed Temple Traffic Control. We just need to wait for a response and approval to move to our appropriate landing zone," as if in response to her words, the cab's com crackled to life.

"Temple Traffic Control to unidentified speeder. Please respond," the pilot taped a panel on the dashboard.

"Copy, TTC. This is TransQuick cab number AF497 carrying passenger…," the pilot looked at a small piece of flimsy on which she had written Padme's name, "Pad-mee Na-berry," the queen sighed at the butchering of her name, "requesting permission for landing procedures."

"Affirmative TransQuick cab, please wait for confirmation," there was a slight pause and Padme could just make out the tapping of someone typing furiously on a touch board on the other end of the com, "Permission granted, TransQuik cab. Please proceed to West landing platform seventeen at level thirteen fifty-six. A Jedi representative will greet you on the platform."

"Copy TTC, TransQuick out," the togruta tapped her screen again to cut the com feed. She eased her cab out into the void of the security cordon and began to make their way around the Temple at a gradual incline, "I have to say, ma'am, I'm impressed. I've never dropped someone off this far up on the Temple before. You're almost up at the Hall of Heroes, where all the diplomats go in," Padme sighed internally. She had hoped to keep a low profile. A diplomatic reception wasn't appropriate for a 'lowly handmaiden'. She hoped Bisk didn't get curious.

"Hall of Heroes?" Padme asked. For some reason, she wouldn't think the Jedi wouldn't use such flashy names.

"Well, I don't think its officially called the Hall of Heroes," the pilot said with a shrug, "probably something more along the lines of the Hall of Silence, or Arcade of the Ancestors or something stoic like that. The few Jedi I've ferried have kinda've been a surly and intense bunch. 'Hall of Heroes' is what its called by the Jedi Temple Museum run by the Coruscant Tourism Board across the way there," she pointed to their left and Padme could make out a somewhat sleek building perched atop the indicated structure. As they slowly rose, the glare of the morning sun lifted and she could make out numerous individuals of various species plastered against the windows. Padme blinked and checked the chrono on her borrowed communicator.

"Isn't it a little early for sightseeing?" the Queen asked. The togruta laughed.

"Haven't you heard that Coruscant is the planet that never sleeps? No, that particular tourism office never closes. In all honesty, it is busier from dusk to dawn. Some of the most famous tourist holos from Coruscant are of the Jedi Temple at twilight or all lit up at night. It's pretty spectacular," the speeder leveled off and they drifted to a stop at what Padme assumed was their designated platform, "Well, here we are, the Jedi Temple," the woman popped open her door with practiced ease and crossed in front of the speeder to operate Padme's door release. In the togruta's absence, Padme was given a view of the pilot console. Almost every spare inch which wasn't devoted to gauges and the flight controls was plastered with poor-quality holo images printed on flimsy and children's drawings.

Two specific drawings caught her eye. The first was a large stick figure surrounded by three much smaller stick figures, all with the distinctive horns and headtails which togruta were known for, standing in front of (what Padme assumed was supposed to be) the aero-cab she was currently occupying. "We Luv U Mommy!" was scrawled across the top in big bright letters. Beside this was another drawing done on a scrap of flimsyboard, but one which was most likely created by their pilot. It was of a Togruta male in half light, done in charcoal. The fine detail and obviously tender and loving expression took Padme's breath away. A quick scan of the holo images on the console did not show this man. The earliest was that of her pilot, gaunt and emaciated, holding an infant togruta in her arms. Her other two children, still toddlers, were seated on a hard bench next to her in what looked like a transit terminal. All were giving the camera tired, but joyous smiles that seemed to be filled with hope.

"Thank you for flying TransQuick," the pilot's words broke through Padme's thoughts.

For the first time, the girl was able to get a good look at their pilot's face. Bright orange and white markings curled around her warm brown eyes, petite nose, and wide smiling mouth. A heavy scar which hadn't shown up in the slightly blurred holo-images began at the center of her left cheek and wound its way down the side of her face onto her headtail. It appeared old, but carried a strange purple color denoting that it was a chemical burn of some sort. The most shocking thing about her appearance was a wide band of scar tissue around her neck. Padme had seen the same scar on some of the women at the pod race. Shmi had explained that they were caused by the slave collars some masters used when they couldn't afford compliance implants. This woman before her was a former slave.

"…I'm Aka Heel," Aka continued with her scripted thanks, "any comments on your journey would be greatly appreciated and can be submitted through TransQuick's holonet site. Your trip has been prepaid so there is no balance. If you enjoyed your trip, you may leave a tip on the payment console," she indicated the small rectangular console installed in the back of the pilot's seat, "Again, thank you for flying with TransQuick!" The woman snapped to attention and stepped to the side with the aero-cab's door in hand to let her out.

At the moment, Padme's instincts… the Force… whatever it was, was screaming at her to do something. She gazed at the togruta for a few moments, debating what to do. The older woman's smile grew slightly strained under her intense scrutiny.

Padme had a secure credit chip she always carried on her when she went out just in case something caught her eye. It carried her monthly shopping budget and she had simply grabbed it out of habit when she left this morning. There was definitely going to be no shopping on this trip, so she didn't feel anything holding her back from what she was being urged to do. With the blockade, a few months of her allowance had backed up. It had been this chip Rabe had offered to Master Jinn to originally pay for the replacement hyperdrive.

Resolute, she fished the chip from her pocket and swiped it through the tip console. With a few quick taps, she dumped the entirety into Aka's virtual tip jar.

The tension Aka had experienced under Padme's heavy gaze melted from her as she saw the disguised queen move to the tip console. A beep from the togruta's com told her the tip had gone through.

"Thank you very much, ma'am, you've been a pleasure to…" she halted abruptly as the amount of the tip displayed on her com. Padme used her shock to exit the vehicle and face the much taller woman. In her peripheral vision, she saw Sergeant Bisk exit the other side of the aero-cab, "I-I'm sorry ma'am, there must have been a mix up with the payment console. I can deny the deposit so you won't lose the money. It won't be available on your account until the banks clear the return, but in the end you shouldn't lose anything," the woman's vibrant orange skin had gone ashy and dull in shock as she tried to reassure Padme that no foul play was involved in the perceived mix-up. The girl held up a hand to stop the woman's nervous ramblings.

"I know exactly how much I tipped you. There is no mix up," she said with a soft smile.

"But-" Aka swallowed heavily, "Ma'am, the trip was only forty-seven credits. The usual tip would be around five- ten if they're generous. This is- ma'am I can't accept this!"

"Take a deep breath, Aka," she placed a hand on the older woman's shoulder and Aka took in a shaky gulp of air, "Did you do that charcoal portrait at your console?" the woman nodded, confused, "Do you use other mediums, paints and such?" Aka nodded again at her, still confused.

"Some ma'am. Paint is a little expensive, but I've tried it a few times," pleased, Padme explained.

"I am a handmaiden to her Highness, Queen Amidala of Naboo. We are currently on Coruscant to deal with a conflict on our planet, but we hope to have it resolved soon. Before this trouble, her Highness was looking for an artist to do her official portrait," and Padme had been, diligently. There had been so much argument back and forth within her privy council that it had nearly driven her mad. Apparently, choosing any prominent artist from Naboo would upset at least one of the unaffiliated aristocratic families. She had made a quiet decision to find one from off-planet that she liked, just to put the matter to rest. Now, it seemed, she had found that one, "If you could drop off your contact info and a portfolio of some of your other works - charcoal, paint, a small sculpture - anything you have lying around. I will have her Highness look them over and see if she likes them," she looked the shocked Aka in the eye to stress her point, "and if they are anything like that portrait, then I am sure she will. We will contact you about the details of commissioning the portrait after our planet is secure. Consider this tip as a down payment in the event her Highness choses you. If she doesn't… well," she shrugged, "it _was_ a very nice cab ride. Sergeant Bisk, do you have a piece of flimsy and a pen on you?" Padme said this without looking away from the shocked togruta.

She heard Bisk scramble for said requested items, surprised by the abrupt address. It only took a few moments before said items were thrust into her outstretched hand. She scribbled down her name (her real one, not her regal name) and the address of the royal party's rented apartments. She knew there was no real secrecy as to where she was staying. They had to register the apartments as diplomatic residences with the Senate and local governing body. Anyone who checked the public records would be able to tell where they lived in a few minutes.

Padme handed the slip to the shocked woman.

"I hope to be seeing you again, Ms. Heel," with a smile and a nod to the woman, both of which Aka shakily returned, Padme turned and began to walk towards the Jedi waiting for her at the entrance to the Temple. Sergeant Bisk followed two steps behind her.

Halfway to the temple, Aka seemed to have gotten over her shock.

"Thank you, Ms. Na-berry! You won't regret this!" Padme smiled at the shout over the roar of the aero-cab's engines.

As she neared the end of the landing platform, Padme surveyed the Jedi who had been sent to greet her. The human woman was easily seventy years old, the oldest Jedi she had met to date. Iron grey hair pulled up in a small knot at the back of her head sat above a drawn and wrinkled face. Piercing blue eyes belied her bland expression of disinterest. Those eyes seemed to see everything about her and were constantly roving, picking up small details which would be all but invisible to the world at large. The Jedi was rail thin, but her stiff embroidered tunic and skirt gave her a somewhat imposing aura.

"Greetings, Handmaiden Naberrie," while the Jedi spoke in a crisp Core World accent, her name had been pronounced with the perfect inflection of a Theedan native, "I am Master Jocasta Nu, Deputy Librarian of the Jedi Archives," she dipped her head in what could be perceived as a bow, "I have been _asked_ to lead you to Master Yaddle," Padme could just barely hear a note of disapproval in the Jedi's voice, "One of our instructors took ill this morning and she is filling in for the vacant youngling class. If not for this, she would have been here to greet you herself. She sends her apologies."

"There is no apologies necessary, Master Nu. In fact it is I who must apologize to you," Nu raised an eyebrow in question, "I am sure you have much more important duties to attend to than leading me around," Padme said in an attempt to soften the woman's veiled disapproval. This did, in fact, seem to have the opposite effect. The Jedi's expression soured slightly.

"Quite," the word seemed to drip bland disdain, "If you would please follow me," without another word she turned and swept into the Temple through the security door behind her. The woman was much taller than Padme and she had to walk quickly to keep up. The pace was just quick enough to be awkward, but not fast enough to be commented on as completely rude. After about twenty meters, the small passage way opened onto a much grander hall. Marble stretched to Padme's left and right over every surface, their polished surfaces gleaming in the natural light filtering through the skylights which capped the large open void in the center of the hall. At least a dozen hallways similar to the one she was now walking down, on just as many floors, wound their way around the great expanse as it stretched upwards. Supporting these walkways were massive pylons, all carved in images of Jedi Knights long passed, supporting the roof with their bare hands, their heads bowed in reverence.

It was humbling. She had thought the Theedan palace was grand when she first stepped foot in its halls back when she was part of the Government Youth program. Compared to this, the palace seemed like a quaint summer home. Some people of the galaxy called the Jedi 'warrior monks'. If they were monks, then they definitely didn't take vows of poverty.

Master Nu stopped abruptly, and Padme almost ran into the back of her. The Jedi turned to address them.

"I must ask that your guard wait here," she gestured to a small door inset in the smooth stone beside a life-sized statue of a masked Jedi. Padme blinked. It wasn't a statue. She could see the slight rise and fall of the Jedi's chest. It was a guard, "Master Yaddle specified that only you were to attend this meeting. As I have _much more important duties_ to attend to," the bland disdain was back, "I cannot chaperone him while you are engaged. He will need to wait in a secure area until you are finished with your business."

"I am sorry, Master Jedi, but I must object. I am responsible for Handmaiden Naberrie's safety, I will not-" Sergeant Bisk's exclamation was cut of by Padme placing a placating hand on the much larger man's shoulder.

"I will be fine, Sergeant," Padme reassured the man, "Without the Jedi, we would still be trapped on Naboo. No harm will come to me here within these walls." Bisk looked conflicted.

"Are you sure, Ma'am?"

"Go and rest. This Temple is most likely the safest place on Coruscant for me," Bisk shot a suspicious glance at Master Nu, who simply raised an eyebrow in response. The man scowled, but acquiesced.

"If you wish, Ma'am. By your leave?" Padme nodded her assent. Bisk shot a light glare at the impassive Master before he turned and entered the designated room.

"This way please," and with that, Master Nu was off again. She led Padme around the central atrium to the opposite hallway and up five sweeping semi-circular flights of stairs without breaking her long stride. The journey left the girl slightly winded as for every three steps Master Nu took, Padme needed to take five, just to keep up.

"If I may ask, Master Nu?" she queried once they had finally mounted the last flight of stairs, "Other than the single guard near where we entered, I have not seen another Jedi in this hall. Why is that?"

"Knowledge is a freely given gift of the Force, Handmaiden Naberrie. It would be remis of me to deny your curiosity. This is the Hall of Knowledge," the Jedi explained without breaking her stride, "It is here that our younglings and padawans receive their intellectual formation. The reason you see no one in the halls is that class is in session."

"This is a school?" Padme asked, surprised. She had never really thought about the education process Jedi aspirants went through.

"No," Master Nu said with a sniff. The disdain was back, "Baring individual planetary requirements, the galactic standard education tract is completed via flash neural induction by the time the students leave the creche, around five to six standard years, although that age differs from species to species," Padme almost tripped. Jedi completed the galactic standard program by the age of five? She had only finished hers a few months before she was elected Queen and even that was considered a high accomplishment in itself. The courses were designed to be completed at around sixteen years of age by a full-time student, "After that point, they move on to advanced subjects depending upon their needs and strengths. This Hall teaches everything from language and politics to force techniques and astronavigation. Any skill a Jedi may need finds its roots in this Hall," while impressive, Padme didn't see how that disqualified this hall from being classified as a school.

"So… this is a _special_ school?" Padme tried. Maybe Master Nu was just offended that she had thought that this was a standard educational institution.

Said master didn't even dignify the question with a response. Again, Nu stopped on a credit and turned to face her

"Please wait here, Master Yaddle shall be out shortly," with that Master Nu turned again and continued down the hallway.

"Ah… thank you?" it was more of a question than Padme would have liked. It didn't matter, as Master Nu was already half way down the hall. It seemed that the Jedi _had_ slowed down to lead Padme around the halls. The girl had never realized that a human could move that fast and not run. She sighed and sat down on the bench running along the balustrade which separated the hallway from the grand atrium it surrounded.

"Well," she mumbled to herself, " _that_ was pleasant."

A feminine chuckle made Padme jump in her seat in surprise. There, beside the bench was another masked guard which she hadn't noticed when she sat down. This one was neither as broad in the shoulders nor as tall as the one beside Sergeant Bisk's waiting room. That coupled with the laugh hinted to Padme that this guard was female.

"Do not worry, ma'am, Master Nu has that effect on people," the guard said, her voice high pitched and musical, "She means well but she's been more prickly since Master Yaddle took back the administration of the Archives. Please don't take it personally."

"I didn't," the Queen explained, "I guess I just was expecting all Jedi to be like those I've encountered. It was rather foolish of me now that I say it aloud."

"Have you met many Jedi, then?" the guard asked with a tilt of her head.

"More than most, I'd wager, but it definitely can't be truly described as 'many'. Just three: Master Qui-Gon Jinn; his padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi; and Knight Harry Potter."

"Ah," the Jedi said, "I only know Master Jinn by reputation, but I am familiar with Kenobi and Potter. If they are still anything like they were when the lived in the general Temple population, then I can see your confusion. I spent the majority first few years of my guard duties chasing after those two when they were still younglings," she said fondly, "You wouldn't believe the mischief they got up to around the Temple," Padme opened her mouth to comment, but she was stopped before she could articulate her words.

 _BONG!_

A resounding gong filled the atrium, its volume and low pitch making her teeth rattle in her head. As one, doors up and down the hallway opened, seemingly of their own accord. A glance into the atrium told her that this was also happening on the other levels of the Hall of Knowledge.

As the echo of the gong died away, the noise was quickly replaced by the roar of young voices that could be found in any school across the galaxy at the end of the class period. Students poured out of the classrooms, joking and talking, relieved that another tortuous day of lectures was over.

Padme was finally free! She was finally done with the hell that was astronavigation. She was thankful that Master Gar wasn't making her take the class for a fourth time. She knew she was hopeless at the subject, but that was what astrodroids were for, right? Honestly, right now she didn't care about anything but lounging around the lake level. She knew that Esten had smuggled in some cheap Corellian brandy on his last unsanctioned excursion into the city, maybe he could be persuaded to crack open a…

A hand clamped onto Padme's shoulder and the world spun for a moment around her. It was if her mind was trying to be pulled from the muck of Naboo's swamps. With a metaphysical _schlorp_ the world righted itself and the Queen blinked at the mass of students in confusion. What had just happened? She looked up to see that it was the Jedi guard who had her shoulder firmly in her grasp. The woman was not looking at her, but had her mask turned toward a teenage male nautolan standing a few feet away, talking with his friends.

"Padawan Kindra!" the guard's call was not a shout, but it held more authority than Padme had ever heard Captain Panaka speak with. Kindra turned to see who had called his name. When he caught sight of the speaker, his normally light blue skin paled to an ashy blue-grey.

"Er – Yes, Knight Kaskt?" the boy asked hesitantly.

"You're leaking," Knight Kaskt inclined her head at Padme, "heavily," the boy glanced at Padme and his eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry," he closed his eyes for a few seconds, his face scrunched slightly in concentration, "Is that better?"

"Much. Now run along, I believe you've got Master Mayner next. You know how much she dislikes tardiness," the padawan nodded and turned to hurry on to his next class but paused mid-step. Slowly he turned back to the Knight.

"Uh," the padawan asked, suddenly nervous, "How much did you actually hear?"

"I didn't hear anything," even Padme could hear the fake nonchalance in her voice, "Just know that if you are _caught_ doing something you shouldn't be doing, I will be forced to apply the rules and regulations of the Temple which would be appropriate to the situation," the padawan smiled at her, relief evident in his sagging shoulders.

"Thanks Knight Kaskt, you're the best!" With that, the padawan to catch up with his group of friends who were already half way down the hall.

"It seems teenage boys are the same everywhere," Padme observed quietly to herself. Obviously, it wasn't quietly enough.

"The same everywhere, _people_ are," the high-pitched voice sounded extremely close, but as Padme looked around, she couldn't see anyone. At the bottom of her eye, she spotted the tip of a bright green ear. She looked down.

Before her stood a member of a species she had never encountered before. The individual was dressed in a minute version of the traditional brown Jedi robes. A round green head with large ears, smiling eyes and a button nose sat beneath long brown hair braided tightly at the base of their skull. Two four-fingered hands capped in short but thick nails were hooked into the belt of the robes, hanging in a posture which implied total relaxation and peace.

"Yaddle, I am. Queen Amidala of the Naboo you are," said queen shifted slightly in her seat as her secret was revealed, "More importantly, Padme Naberrie you are. An honor it is to meet you," Padme glanced at Knight Kaskt out of the corner of her eye, unsure as how to respond in a public situation.

"Please, Your Highness," Yaddle gave Padme a warm smile, "On the High Council, sit together as equals, slaves and kings do. Means nothing, your title does, within this Temple," she chuckled, "More interesting. the rumor is, that served for lunch, kelp pie will be," Padme noted the slight change of posture of Knight Kaskt at the words 'kelp pie' as the knight suddenly became interested in the conversation, "See? Safe your identity is," Yaddle turned to the other Jedi present.

"In my custody, Queen Amidala will be, for the remainder of her visit. Return to your duties, you may, Emana," the Master retrieved something from her robe and offered it to the much taller knight. It was a brightly wrapped piece of candy. Kaskt took the offered sweet and looked down at it in her palm.

"I'm not a youngling, Master. You can't bribe me with sweets anymore. Master Nu and my superiors were very clear that I was to accompany your guest for the remainder of her stay in the Temple. They were concerned that you would let her wander like the last one."

"Knew exactly where he was, I did," Yaddle informed the knight.

"Master," Kaskt began, "we found him lost in the catacombs after six hours of searching."

"Not all who wander, lost are," the diminutive master replied but the knight was steadfast. Yaddle sighed and reached into her robes a second time. She pulled out a small cloth draw-string bag. In it, Padme saw, were many more pieces of candy. She offered it to Knight Kaskt. Both original piece of candy and cloth bag quickly disappeared into the guard's robes.

"It is a pleasure doing business with you, Master," with that, Kaskt turned and walked away.

"Save me a piece of kelp pie at lunch, you _will_!" Yaddle called after her but only received a lazy wave in response. The woman did not even break her stride.

Padme blinked at the familiarity between the two Jedi. There was obviously a social connection between the two women, but the queen suspected that it went deeper than just the student-teacher relationship which Harry had revealed his master to have with most Jedi.

"Of my lineage, Emana Kaskt is," Yaddle explained, seemingly sensing Padme's unasked question, "Her master, my first padawan's padawan was. Mother, grandmother and batty old aunt, I have become to many generations of Jedi," the master chuckled warmly, "But why you are here, that is not. Come, much we have to discuss."

Yaddle led Padme on a leisurely stroll through the corridors of the Jedi Temple, pointing out items of historical significance on display or offering amusing anecdotes about some of the Jedi who once walked these halls. Eventually she was led into a small conference room off one of the statuary halls.

It seemed utterly unremarkable. A few chairs sat around a small holotable. The wood paneling which covered the walls was stained a light honey color, making the windowless room seem slightly larger than it was.

"Sit, please," Yaddle gestured at one of the chairs at the table and Padme took her cue. The small master, however, did not follow suit. Instead, she waved her hand across a section of paneling beside the door. With a slight pneumatic _hiss_ a small panel inset into the wall slid open, revealing a palm scanner. She offered her hand for inspection and was rewarded with a soft _ping._

Padme quickly grabbed the arms of her chair as she felt the floor rotate. Paneling slid across the entrance, creating a seamless wall as the room slowly spun on it's axis. By the time the room had stopped moving, she had lost all bearing with regards to where she had originally entered the room.

Yaddle hopped up on the chair next to Padme and it rose to present the small master at a more equal height to that of her guest.

"First," Yaddle began, "To extend the full sympathies of the Jedi Order, I have been given permission. The full support of the High Council, you have, in the liberation of your planet. Normally, the Order's actions, limited they would be by Republic Law. Changes things, the appearance of this dark warrior does. The Force, he used. Your protection against him, we can now ensure."

Padme recalled the attacker's acrobatic skills and above all, his use of a lightsaber. Was the one who attacked them a Jedi?

"Who was he?" the queen asked, "Why did he attack us?"

"A missing piece of the puzzle, he was," Yaddle gave a ruthless smile made Padme blink. In a moment the jolly Master was gone, replaced with a cunning mastermind just waiting to spring a trap. She could almost see the plans within plans rolling over in the small woman's head. There was much, _much_ more to Yaddle than what Harry had told her. In all honesty, Padme was now very glad that Yaddle was on her side.

"In certain assassinations connected to the illusive syndicate, evidence there was, of a lightsaber being used. Not a Jedi's weapon. Too dark. Too full of malice. Too hot. Confirmed what I have suspected, Harry has. In leaving you alive, revealed his existence he has. A Sith, we believe him to be," the word S _ith_ rang with a vague familiarity, as though she had once come across the term in a history class or as an obscure reference in a piece of literature.

"What are the Sith? The term sounds familiar."

"Ancient enemy, they are. Of the Jedi. Of the Republic. Of freedom. Led to the Russan Reformation, the wars with the Sith Empire did. Hate. Greed. Anger. Give power to the Sith, these do. All consuming, their ambition is. Never stopping. Never satisfied. Everything in their path, they consume, and still thirst for more," Padme shivered.

That sounded _exactly_ what Harry described of the actions of this mysterious organization: never stopping, always thirsting for more power. He had said that sometimes this organization played it's parties against each other. If there was a schemer fully outside of the conflict, he or she could use the situation to leverage themselves into a better position. They wouldn't care about the individual players. They were but pawns. Padme couldn't see the ultimate goal, but the trajectory and mode of operation seemed to fit.

"You think that there is a Sith at the center of the syndicate, the one who is giving the orders," it wasn't a question. The master gave another smile, her original warmth filtering back in.

"Perceptive, you are. A fine mind, you have. Yes, believe, I do, that a Sith is in control of the situation. Not the assassin on Tatooine. Another. More cunning and wiser. Personally, Sith do not act. Always two full Sith, there are: master and apprentice. Expose himself to scrutiny, the master would not. Encountered either the apprentice or a partially-trained Sith assassin on Tatooine, I believe you did. Much more powerful the Master would be. Much more dangerous. Believe you would have survived, I do not, if the Master had confronted you," Padme swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in her throat.

"But not why you are here, this is," Yaddle said kindly, attempting to ease the queen's tension and fear which had built up over the course of the conversation, "Ask if I may, to approach the senate, a plan do you have?" Padme pulled herself together and pushed forward. This was territory which was familiar.

"I hope to bring a Mandate of Action to floor of the Senate for a immediate cessation of hostilities and a withdrawal of Trade Federation forces from Naboo, file both a judiciary and civil case with the Republic Judiciary Forces, and submit an executive request to the Republic Naval Defense for a peacekeeping force to be stationed in our system," Yaddle nodded along to her explanation, face unreadable.

"Most likely course of action, that is. So likely, it is, that your move our enemy has already preempted," Padme blinked in shock, "Six months ago, submitted a Mandate of Action, the Premier of Cadroita, did. Infiltrated his planet, insurgents had, and were slaughtering his people. Brought a Mandate forward to the Senate he did, requesting a military deployment of Jedi. Approve and order it, the Senate did, against the Council's wishes for more investigation. A slaughter it was. Not insurgents, were they, but an indigenous species, the Jedi discovered after the battle. Counterattacking, they were, against the Cadroitan raids of their villages. While to battle the indigenous warriors, the Jedi were sent, wiped out the non-combatants in the villages, Cadroitan forces did. On a large deposit of precious minerals, their settlement was built. Genocide, it was, for profit. Guess, can you, who bought those minerals?" the queen felt like the floor had dropped out from under her. She would be out-right denied a Mandate, simply because of the proximity of her request to the horrible actions of others.

"The Trade Federation," Yaddle _hmmm_ 'd in affirmation, but Padme didn't see defeat in the green master's eyes. Instead, the gleam of cunning intelligence was back, "You have a plan," again, it was not a question.

"A few suggestions, I may have."


	8. The Corruption and Crime of Coruscant

**Trigger Warning: Non-explicit references to past rape. If this topic disturbs you, please skip the scene after the Senate hearing.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: The Corruption and Crime of Coruscant**

Padme blocked out the bureaucratic shuffling and rolls as the special session of the Galactic Senate came to order. There was only one thing that mattered at this moment: play her part and play it well. Master Yaddle had gone through every permutation of how this could play out… or at least every situation which the Jedi seers assigned to her case had encountered. While she still didn't know what to make of the fact that there were people who could legitimately _see the future,_ she had pushed it to the back of her mind. She could ponder it later.

As the Vice Chancellor neared the end of the Senate roll call, noting those Senators absent rather than those present, the queen glanced sidelong at Senator Palpatine sitting next to her. There was something that didn't sit right with her. Not once did Master Yaddle mention that her Senator may advise her to seek a Vote of No Confidence in the Supreme Chancellor. Yesterday, the suggestion had caught her off guard. Padme had allowed Palpatine to lead her through his logic, but did not make any commitment. It was a very round-about solution in which she would need to wait a few weeks for a new Chancellor to be voted in and installed so that she could present her case to the Senate again. With the Chancellor so involved in the Jedi's investigation and Padme's need for expediency in the liberation of her people, it was not an action she could condone. Palpatine was wrong in his belief that this was the only option but ultimately, she couldn't blame him. What she was about to do hadn't been attempted in seven hundred years and was a footnote buried in procedure and technicality which had thankfully never been repealed.

"The Chair recognizes the Senator from the sovereign system of Naboo," Valorum's voice rolled across the quiet mumblings of the various delegations.

This was it.

Palpatine gracefully rose from his seat and moved to the speaker's podium as their repulsorpod drifted out into the void to orbit around the Chair's dias at the center of the chamber. Padme noticed that the holodisplay at the repulsorpod's podium switched from green to red, denoting that the Vice Chancellor had turned over the control of the pod to the Senator.

"Supreme Chancellor, delegates of the Senate," below her, Padme saw the repulsorpod of the Trade Federation pull away from the wall and began to rise to their elevation. Their control screen was green. Either they had a slicer override the controls of their pod, or the Vice Chancellor had immediately turned over control to the delegation as soon as Palpatine began to speak. From the information which Master Yaddle had conveyed to her, she suspected the latter, "a tragedy has occurred which started right here with the taxation of trade routes and has now engulfed our entire planet in the oppression of the Trade Federation!"

"This is outrageous," came the angry voice of Lot Dodd, the Trade Federation's Senator, "I object to the Senator's statements!"

"The Chair does not recognize the Senator from the Trade Federation at this time," Valorum shot Mas Amedda a short glare but the Vice Chancellor did not return the Trade Federation's pod back to their dock.

"To state our allegations," Palpatine continued, ignoring Dodd's outburst, "I present Queen Amidala, recently elected ruler of the Naboo, who speaks on our behalf."

This was it. Padme moved to the podium, glad that her robes of state covered her trembling hands. She tapped an icon on the repulsorpod's controls to turn the pod in its orbit so that it faced the Senators to whom she was speaking to.

"Honorable Senators and Representatives of the Republic," she began, "I come to you under the gravest of circumstances. Naboo's system has been invaded by the droid armies of the Trade Federation."

"I object!" Dodd yelled over her last few words. While the control of the Senate's repulsorpods are the purview of the Vice Chancellor, the Chancellor had the power to actively mute a certain delegation for a period of time as part of his power to regulate debate. Even without a microphone, Dodd's voice was piercing enough to carry through the Senate chamber, "There is no poof. This is incredible. We recommend a commission be sent to Naboo to ascertain the truth."

And there was the Condriota issue. If Master Yaddle and her seers were correct, then the next person to jump on the issue would be Malastare. Supposedly, they had fully supported their neighbor in their Mandate of Action and now they wished to distance themselves from the issue.

"The Congress of Malastare concurs with the honorable delegate from the Trade Federation," Malastare's Senator declared right on cue from his docked repulsorpod, "a commission must be appointed!"

"The point-" Valorum began but was quickly cut off by his Vice Chair. Padme couldn't hear what was being said as the dais had sound dampeners for internal discussion between the Chancellor and the Vice Chair.

'Here we go,' Padme thought to herself, 'Showtime.'

"Enter the bureaucrat," the queen hid her flinch as Palpatine unexpectedly whispered in her ear, "the true rulers of the Republic and on the payroll of the Trade Federation, I might add. This is where Chancellor Valorum's strength will disappear," a rustle of cloth signaled her Senator's return to his seat.

After a few moments Valorum turned back to his controls. He didn't look happy.

"The point is ceded," Valorum began again, "Will you defer your motion to allow a commission to explore the validity of your accusations?"

"Supreme Chancellor, I request an explanation from the Vice Chancellor on the point of procedure which seems to supersede one of the first invariable rights of a sovereign system enumerated in the Constitution of the Republic."

Valorum blinked at her in surprise before tilting his head, curious as to where this would go.

"The Chair recognizes the Vice Chancellor to explain the point of procedure," Amedda sneered at Padme for a moment before he schooled himself into a more diplomatic expression.

"Due to the recent abuse of a sovereign's Mandate of Action, the Senate has voted to relegate the power to an investigation by the Senate's Ethics Committee. By the laws of the Senate, any such investigation freezes the use of the power in question upon the floor of the Chamber until a verdict is reached," Amedda's blue lips twitched upwards in the ghost of a smug smile, "Should you submit a Mandate of Action to the floor while the investigation continues, the processes to deal with a constitutional crisis would be enacted. The Third Article of the Constitution would come into conflict with the Ninety-Third Amendment which describes the authority of the Senate Ethics Committee over Senate procedure when dealing with an abuse of power. The only way for you to avoid a legal battle in the Supreme Court before moving forward with your motion is to cede your right to a Mandate of Action to the Senate Investigative Committee."

"In that case," Padme replied, "I cede my motion to an investigation to avoid a constitutional crisis, but not to the Senate Committee," Amedda's smirk fell off of his face. The queen had to willfully not allow her own lips to creep upward. She had seen the archivist droids floating around the chamber. This would be all over the holonet tomorrow so she needed to keep herself as composed as possible, "You seem to forget, Vice Chancellor, that the Chairman of the Senate Investigative Committee, the Honorable Connus Trell, was assassinated three months ago," Padme pointed to the repulsorpod of the Ryloth delegation which was draped in black and the Senator's chair was noticeably empty.

"While I offer my condolences to the honorable Representatives of Ryloth," she continued with a nod in their direction, "this vacancy means that the Investigative Committee may not function until this Senate elects a new Chairman. This august chamber saw fit to declare an eight-month period of mourning before new elections. Thus, Chapter Fourty-Nine, Section Eight, Subsection Grek, Article Seventy-Two of the Internal Senate Organization Act of 864 states: 'In the event that a new petition for investigation is made to the Senate and the Investigative Committee is unable to convene in a timely manner, the Jedi Order may conduct and present the investigation to the Senate in the Investigative Committee's stead, assuming all power of executive action held by the Investigative Committee with regards to said petition with the approval of the Supreme Chancellor,'" Padme took a calming breath, "With the Supreme Chancellor's approval, I cede my motion to the investigation of the Jedi Order."

Chancellor Valorum glanced down at Amedda to see if he had any objections but the horned man was too preoccupied with glaring daggers at the young queen.

"Impossible" Dodd shouted, his microphone still muted, "This is a trade dispute. The Jedi are forbidden by law to interfere in trade negotiations between sovereign states and businesses."

Master Yaddle had impressed upon Padme how important it was for her to overcome this specific objection before the Jedi could step in. If she could not, then the Jedi's involvement would be forbidden. Even the Supreme Chancellor's initial action of appointing Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi as ambassadors would be considered illegal. She had spent the past day or so trying to memorize the legal precedent just to make sure she got this bit right.

"Honorable Supreme Chancellor, Senators and Representatives, according to the laws enacted in this very chamber, to classify this blockade as a trade negotiation is farce. If you would allow me, Supreme Chancellor, I would submit evidence supporting my claims."

Valorum stared down at Padme for a few moments, deep in thought. He seemed to be weighing the political and legal repercussions of all of his options. His gaze flicked between herself and the Trade Federation's delegation. Once, she even saw his eyes flick upwards to the repulsorpod occupied by the Jedi's ever-present Permanent Observer to the Senate.

"The Chair will allow Queen Amidala of Naboo to present evidence," Amedda opened his mouth to object but Valorum simply continued on. The tilt of Valorum's head and sidelong glance at Amedda suggested that the Supreme Chancellor was now speaking directly to the Chagrian, "After which, the current dispute between the Trade Federation and the Sovereign System of Naboo's classification as 'trade negotiations' will be reassessed through the executive privilege given to the Supreme Chancellor with regards to assignation of terms during an open plenary session of the Senate as laid down in the Internal Senate Organization Act of 864."

With a nod at the Supreme Chancellor, Padme retrieved the datastick Master Yaddle had specially prepared for this very purpose. Plugging it into her console, she selected her first document and tapped the command to both send it to the Supreme Chancellor and display it on the holoprojectors installed around the Senate reserved for presenting evidence. Another tap confirmed her action and the document sprang into being before each of the Senate's repulsorpods.

"Before you, Supreme Chancellor, honorable Senators and Representatives, is the original treaty between Ars Veruna, my predecessor, and the Trade Federation. The Trade Federation's classification of the current conflict as trade negotiations rests solely upon this document. They claim that it legally binds the planet to the fulfillment of their terms and, as such, have the right to take non-violent measures to ensure that the treaty is followed. Whether the action of the Trade Federation was truly non-violent is not addressed here," Padme explained quickly when it appeared that Lot Dodd was going to interrupt again, "I do not dispute that Ars Veruna, King of Naboo, entered into this agreement. Instead, I put forth that by the laws of Naboo, this was not a binding treaty between the Sovereign System of Naboo and the Trade Federation but rather a personal contract between Ars Veruna and the Trade Federation. As such, it expired when Ars Veruna was murdered eight months ago," Padme took a deep breath to calm herself. This was where the tricky legal bit came in. She selected the next document on her screen and allowed it to replace the treaty. It was a legal quote.

"The Intersystemic Diplomacy Act of 791, chapter three, section aurek, article seven states: 'In any treaty between a sovereign system and an extrasystemic organization, each party is bound by the laws of its respective place of origin,'" she finished reading the quote and explained, "This means that while the Trade Federation was bound by the laws of Cato Nemoidia, Ars Veruna was bound by the laws of Naboo," she tapped her screen and the holoprojection was replaced another quote, this time from Naboo's legal code.

"Naboo's Regal Household Act of 631, chapter nineteen, section besh, articles one through three state: 'The reigning monarch of the Sovereign System of Naboo and the person who holds the position are two separate legal entities. The legal duties, responsibilities and penalties undertaken by or imposed upon one of these legal entities does not automatically imply the assent of the other. To differentiate between the two, the legal entity of the reigning sovereign is to be known as: King/Queen (insert regal name) of the Naboo'; the personal legal entity of the monarch is known as (insert birth name), King/Queen of Naboo.'

"When a new monarch of Naboo is coronated, he or she takes up an official regal name," the newly elected queen explained. She, herself, hadn't just taken up Amidala as a last name to honor Queen Amida the First, the ruler to start the election of Naboo's monarchs by setting aside her birthright as heir to the throne and allowing the people to decide if she was fit to be their Queem. She had also been scared that she would slip up and sign something the wrong way if she just kept her last name, despite the fact that there had previously been a few kings and queens from the various branches of House Naberrie.

"Most monarchs take a new name or change part of their birth name to avoid confusion between the two legal entities despite not being legally required to do so. Ars Veruna was not one of these monarchs. He used his House name as regal name. The only differentiation between the two separate legal persons was how Ars Veruna formulated his title. King Veruna the Fourth of the Naboo was the monarch of the Sovereign System of Naboo and his signature carried the authority of the Head of State. Our very own Senator Palpatine just demonstrated this concept as he introduced Us to the Senate as a Head of State: Queen Amidala… of the Naboo. Ars Veruna, King of Naboo, however, was a private individual."

Padme could see that the Supreme Chancellor was interested. While only the excerpt was displayed to the various Senate delegations, the Supreme Chancellor always had access to her original file which contained the entirety of the Regal Household act. She could see the document quickly scroll up and down on her own display, the Chancellor checking and double-checking precedent to verify the veracity of her claims about the law through the master control situated in the Chair's dais. She could just make out Valorum's eyes flitting back and forth as he sped through the law. His face, however, was totally unreadable as to which way he was leaning.

The queen brought back up the original treaty between Veruna and the Trade Federation.

"As you can see, Supreme Chancellor, honorable Senators and Delegates, nowhere does this treaty refer to King Veruna the Fourth of the Naboo. Instead, it describes a contract between Ars Veruna, King of Naboo and the Trade Federation to mine the plasma core of Naboo for profit. The contract binds an individual, Ars Veruna, to facilitate the mining of Naboo's core. In return, payment would be deposited into his personal bank accounts, not those of the government."

"Under the legal code of Naboo, this contract had _nothing_ to do with the government. There was no Plenary Vote, no Parliamentary Act, not even a public disclosure of this contract. The first contact the Trade Federation had with the government of the Sovereign System of Naboo on this matter was when they blockaded our planet and demanded that the Naboo not only fulfill their terms but also reimburse them for the cost of the blockade. I offer this contract and the legal precedent, Supreme Chancellor, as evidence that this was not, in fact, a trade negotiation but rather the Trade Federation holding our planet hostage and await your ruling."

Silence.

She stared at the Chair's dais, resolute and dignified, but inwardly she was terrified. If Valorum dismissed her claims, there was nothing much she could do. She was dead in the water. Master Yaddle had given her the names of a few Senators who may wish to send military aid to Naboo, but they would need to return to their home planets, receive official approval from their respective governments, amass a peacekeeping force, and then journey to Naboo. It would be at least a month before help arrived, maybe two, and even then they would only have the authority to remove the Trade Federation from the surface and ensure that there was not a second invasion until a new Chairperson was elected to the Senate Intelligence Committee, the Committee conducted the investigation, presented its findings to the Senate and was voted upon. That would be years.

"The Chair," Valorum began, shaking Padme from her worry, "finds that the actions of the Trade Federation against the Sovereign System of Naboo did not happen within the context of trade negotiations. Thus, the objections of the Senator for the Trade Federation against Jedi involvement in this matter are overruled. I will allow the petition of Queen Amidala of the Naboo for an investigation into this conflict to be presented to the Jedi for consideration. I call upon Master Plo Koon, Permanent Observer to the Senate for the Jedi Order, to come forward."

There was a half a minute of stillness before Valorum glanced up at the Jedi's dock at the top of the rotunda, then back down at his screen. Frowning, the man turned to his Vice Chancellor and appeared to say something forcefully, his words again silenced by the dais's sound dampeners. Amedda glared up at the human but eventually acquiesced, allowing the Jedi's pod to descend to the Chair's dais.

The Jedi was tall. From Padme's perspective, most of his features were covered by traditional brown Jedi robes, a breathing mask, and heavy goggles but she could make out thick orange skin and heavy four-fingered hands tucked into his belt in a way similar to the relaxed posture of Master Yaddle. When he spoke, it was with a deep velvety tone overlaid with the slight reverberation of a vocabulator.

"The Jedi Order accepts the responsibility for the investigation of this issue," Master Koon affirmed, "We have already analyzed the situation collected evidence in anticipation for this eventuality and are ready to present the case to the Senate floor."

"With all due respect to the Master Jedi," Amedda said without waiting to be recognized by the Supreme Chancellor, "but any investigation done by the Senate may only be initiated once the petition has been officially posed on the Senate floor. Any information gathered before the posing of the petition in inadmissible. Your investigation must _begin_ now."

"And with all due respect to _you_ , Vice Chancellor Amedda," Koon began, "those are the rules governing the actions of the Senate Investigative Committee. Nowhere in the law does it state that the Jedi, in conducting and presenting their investigation, must follow the _procedure_ of the Senate Investigative Committee while carrying out those tasks. If it did, then it would come in conflict with…" Koon trailed off as one of the other masters from the Jedi's Council of Reconciliation whispered in his ear.

Padme suppressed the urge to smirk. This was planned. Master Yaddle was good.

"I apologize, Supreme Chancellor, but before I continue, I must ask that Vice Chancellor Amedda recuse himself from this issue."

Valorum blinked. He glanced down at Amedda who was watching Koon with eyes narrowed suspisciously.

"The Chair asks why he should request recusal from the Vice Chancellor."

"I have just received word," the master who had spoken in his ear passed Master Koon a datapad, "that the Vice Chancellor has just been indicted by the Republic Judiciary's First Circuit on, amongst others, forty seven charges of bribery, twelve counts of fraud, seven counts of conspiracy to commit fraud, one hundred and thirteen counts of money laundering, and two counts of conspiracy to commit murder in the second degree, included among these is his alleged involvement in the death of the Honorable Connus Trell of Ryloth, all connected in some way with the Trade Federation."

"This is an outrage!" Amedda bellowed through his microphone over the sudden roar of the Senate. Padme could one or two shouts for Amedda's innocence, but the vast majority of the Senate were baying for Amedda's blood. Having her eyes opened to the wide spread corruption which plagued the Senate by Master Yaddle, the young queen highly doubted they all were objecting to Amedda's actions out of a sense of morality. No. More likely than not, they simply smelled blood in the water and were eager to usurp some of the influence Amedda currently held.

"Order!" Valorum cried, trying to get both the Senate and his shouting Vice Chancellor (who was now quite literally purple with rage) to regain civility, "Order!"

Valorum waited the obligatory thirty seconds before the final Call to Order. He forcefully tapped something out on his control console, his actions betraying his anger.

"Final Call to Order!" the man's voice boomed out of each repulsorpod's speakers at full volume. Padme could see some more acoustically sensitive species clutch at their ears in pain, "Refusal to obey will result in ejection from the Chamber!"

The silence which quickly followed was just as deafening as his booming final Call to Order. Valorum turned to the Vice Chancellor.

"Vice Chancellor Mas Amedda," the Supreme Chancelor began, "a petition has been forwarded to the Chair and the Chair has found it valid. Do you willingly recuse yourself from this matter?"

"I do not!" Amedda immediately responded, "These charges are baseless. I will not allow the manipulations of the same Jedi whose incompetence led to the massacres at both Eriadu and Condroita to allow this Senate to fall in disarray. In an effort to deflect the blame for their failings, they have fabricated these false accusations are a distraction!" Padme wasn't surprised that Eriadu was thrown back into the face of the Jedi. Master Yaddle had explained what had happened there and how to turn it to their advantage, stating that some of the seers had seen the topic breached in their visions.

Valorum glared stonily at Amedda. There was nothing he could do to force Amedda to recuse himself. Over the past two hundred years, the Vice Chancellorship had gone from a role supportive of the Supreme Chancellor to a check against the Supreme Chancellor's power. For years, extra powers had been heaped upon the position, making him nearly invulnerable. But _nearly_ invulnerable was not _invulnerable_. Heads of State had a constitutional power with regards to the senate leadership outside of the Mandate of Action.

"Supreme Chancellor, honorable Senators and Delegates," Padme began and all attention was suddenly upon her, "I find it interesting that while defending against accusations of collusion with the Trade Federation he tries to blame the Jedi Order for acts which directly benefited the current Viceroy of the Trade Federation. Public records on the incident on Eriadu state that it was Nute Gunray who urged the Trade Federation Directorate to abandon Jedi protection, only to excuse himself immediately before the massacre. The same massacre which conveniently left him the only suitable candidate to assume the Viceroyalty. So too, do public records show that it was Nute Gunray who negotiated with the Premier of Condroita to sign over the trade rights for the planet's tydirium deposits to the Trade Federation months before the incident at Eriadu. Thus, it contractually fell upon the Premier to clear the land and natives so that the tydirium could be mined. The bias of the Vice Chancellor is clear. There is no doubt."

"I have personally looked over records of Senate sessions where the Vice Chancellor has picked and chosen when to follow precedent and procedure to effect the outcome in ways that most benefited the Trade Federation. It was even he who rejected the Jedi's call to investigate the Condroita issue more thoroughly. How can we, the Sovereign Systems of the Republic ever come to this august chamber for aid when it's rules and regulations are manipulated to suit a personal interest," Padme could hear the building murmuring of assent from the various system delegations, "Wake up, Senators and Representatives! Wake up, my fellow Republican patriots! We cannot allow this injustice to stand," at this point, the young queen began to hear vocal _AYE_ 's of assent from the galleries. This was it.

"We cannot allow this to continue. I call for a Vote of No Confidence in Vice Chancellor Mas Amedda's leadership."

* * *

Padme sat in a rather comfortable chair looking out over the multicolored glitter of a Coruscanti night. She took a sip of her warm mooja juice and let its tart flavor wash away some of her troubled thoughts.

They had done it.

Mas Amedda and his obstructionism was out. The position had yet to be filled, but Padme had made sure that after the Senate session she was publically seen with the outgoing Senator from Alderan, Bail Antilles, a man whose record for fairness was well-known and one which Padme admired. As her call for a Vote of No Confidence had gone through with a seventy nine percent majority, she could safely say that she had gained some political capital in the Senate and being seen with a candidate whose name had been put forward for the new Vice Chancellorship would be construed by many as her political endorsement.

The investigation report by Master Koon had gone by terribly smoothly. Harry had first been called into the hall to testify and provide evidence. Master Yaddle had not revealed anything to Padme about the contents of their investigation, so it had come as a shock. What was more important was that the shock could be seen on Padme's face. Her visible reaction lent credence to the belief that she had not been involved in the investigation.

Holovids.

Apparently, Harry had been in possession of a high quality holorecorder and documented everything from the droid armies marching across the Plain of Theed into the city to the skirmish in the royal hangar as they tried to flee the planet. Somehow, Harry had even been able to record Gunray telling her that she would be forced to sign a treaty legalizing their occupation through the sufferings of her people. Padme assumed that the Jedi had been hiding in one of upper statuary niches due to the strange angle that the confrontation was captured from, but for the life of her, the young queen couldn't wrap her mind around how he could even have gotten up there.

Apart from Harry's testimony, a steady stream of documents and recordings were paraded past the Senators. In the end, Padme thought it may have just been out of a desire to end the session that they voted overwhelmingly that the occupation was deemed illegal. The problem came when the chamber breached the issue of what to do in response. In the end, the session reached its twelve-hour maximum limit and was adjourned. The issue of action was tabled until the next plenary session in four days. As it would be tabled under New Business, it could take up to a few weeks for the issue to be resolved.

That was not the important part. What was important was that the Republic Senate had declared the Trade Federation's blockade illegal, not an act of war. This gave her much more leeway in dealing with this crisis. While Naboo's constitution may be pacifistic with regards to warfare, the use of force in law and order situations is allowed. As an illegal action, the executive police powers ceded to the Monarch came into effect and allowed Padme to authorize a militia force. She had personally petitioned many Senators for aid following the dismissal of the Senate session but she had only received one confirmed response. Thankfully, when she had spoken to Bail Antilles about her need, he had been accompanied by the incoming Senator from Alderan, Bail Organa, who just so happened to also be the planet's new sovereign head of state. They did not have much in the way of military might which could oppose the Trade Federation's blockade, but they could provide food, medical aid, and reconstruction supplies as soon as the blockade was broken.

Three weeks. That was how long it would take for Viceroy Organa to return to Alderaan, secure both the ships and supplies, and arrive at Naboo. She had three weeks to liberate her people. Three weeks to open supply lines and get the Trade Federation off of her planet. A plan was slowly forming in her head and her instincts were forcefully nudging her to take the plunge and drive forward.

This was why she was surrounded by her packed luggage. Tomorrow they would leave Coruscant to return to Naboo. Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi would escort her party to the repaired royal yacht where they would be met by Harry and the four other Jedi who had been assigned to the party to defend against the assassin they encountered on Tatooine. It was going to be a bit cramped on the way back but thankfully this trip was only going to be a day long.

"Padme?"

The queen turned in her seat toward the sound of the inquiry. Eritae stood in the door dressed in a loose grey night gown. Padme could see that she was fighting off the remnants of sleep but her cousin's eyes told her that the other girl was deeply troubled by something.

"Yes?"

"There's an injured woman with three small children downstairs at the building's pedestrian entrance. She keeps asking for 'Padme Naberrie'."

It took a moment of thought to realize who would have her personal name here on Coruscant before it clicked.

"A togruta?" Padme asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes. Do you know her?"

By the time Eritae had finished her question, the queen had vaulted out of her chair and hurried to slip on her shoes.

"Yes, I know Aka. I'm going to commission her for my official portrait," her cousin blinked and opened her mouth to inquire further, but Padme continued on, "You say she's hurt? And she brought her kids with her?" Eritae blinked again as her unasked question was derailed by Padme pushing her out the door towards the turbolift.

"Yes," she answered ad they stepped inside and they plummeted downwards towards the pedestrian level, "We called a medic to tend to her but she kept repeating that she had to see you."

"Why, though," Padme asked, "Did she say why it was so important?"

"She only said, 'He knows. He's coming for me.'"

"Who is 'he'?" Eritae shrugged as lift's internal sound dampeners disengaged and its doors opened to a chaos of motion and sound.

Aka was half collapsed on the floor in the center of the small atrium. She was unrecognizable. Her features were distorted by swelling, bruises and cuts. Her lips were torn and bleeding. A jagged crack split her left montral, running down to an ugly purplish-black contusion blooming from the seam of flesh which connected the horn to her headtail. She had one hand fisted in the tunic of the guard kneeling in front of her and batted away the stooping medic squatting beside her with the other. A worn cloth bag had burst open on the floor a meter away from the trio spilling articles of clothing, drawings, and other items across the floor.

A small whimper accompanied her arrival and she turned to find Aka's three children huddled in the corner of the atrium. They seemed trying to hide behind the large potted plant which stood beside the turbolift. The two older children around the age of four (twins, if Padme could guess) held their younger sibling in their arms. All three were crying quietly, looking upon the scene before them with fear in their eyes.

Padme quickly crossed the open space and knelt before the young woman.

"I'm here, Aka," she consoled, "I'm here now."

"Miss Na-berry!" Aka cried softly, grabbing desperately at Padme's nightgown. The togruta's head fell into the queen's lap, "You have to help us," Aka sobbed, "He found out about the Queen's commission. You have to take us with you. He'll kill us if we stay."

Both the guard and medic started speaking at once.

"Enough," Padme ordered quietly but her gaze held a measure of steel as she glared at the two of them, "Will Aka be permanently harmed if you don't administer treatment in the next few minutes?" she asked the medic.

"No, but-" the medic began but Padme cut her off.

"Then you will leave us, all of you," the young queen added, addressing the guard beside her and his compatriots standing around the room, "You are scaring the children."

Aka's sobs pierced the silence of the atrium as the medic and guards filled out of the room. Eritae naturally stayed behind, standing at the turbolift. Her cousins only left her when directly ordered to. It was only when the door to the attached guardroom closed that Padme spoke to Aka again.

"Who hurt you, Aka? Who is chasing you?"

"Agor… Agor Baask," Padme could feel Aka tremble violently in fear at the name. She looked to Eritae for more information.

Her cousin had her personal datapad out and was frantically typing away with one hand. It took a moment before the other girl spoke.

"Agor Baask… tholothian male, fourty-three… executive manager for Transquick Aerocabs… arrested multiple times for various crimes but never charged… third son of Pedmur Baask, owner of Baask Transport… which holds a near monopoly on Coruscant for all intra-planetary shipping and personnel transport in both the public and private sectors."

"Why is he after you, Aka?" Padme stroked the woman's head in her lap soothingly, consciously avoiding any visible injury. The question caused Aka to flinch violently. She was silent for a time. So silent that Padme would have thought that Aka dead, had it not been for the slight rise and fall of her back as she breathed in and out. When the togruta spoke again, her voice was quiet and distant, wavering and fragile.

"He come to visit me sometimes – says it's repayment for letting me work without a labor permit. He calls ahead so I can send the little ones to a friend's house," the woman took a shaky breath and she could feel wetness seep through her dress onto her knees. Whether it was tears or blood, she did not know.

"He was rougher than usual tonight," Aka absentmindedly rubbed her neck where Padme could see bruises that looked suspiciously like fingers, "I passed out and when I came to, he was hitting me. He found the bank notification that your tip had been deposited into my account. I tried to explain, but he kept saying that I was his and no one else could have me. Then he picked up an electrospanner. I don't remember much about what happened after that. The next thing I know, I'm standing above him with the spanner in my hand and he's out cold. I packed a few things, got my children and ran. He may know your name, ma'am, but he doesn't know where you live. It will take him a few days," Aka looked up at Padme, fear warring with hope in her eyes, "Please, Miss Na-berry! Even if the Queen doesn't want me to do her portrait, please take us with you."

"We will keep you safe, Aka," Padme said, her instincts crying out that this was an innocent to be protected, "Don't worry about my portrait for now. We'll find somewhere safe for you until we can bring you to Naboo. You will never have to deal with Agor Baask again."

As a politician, she knew that she should never, _never_ , make promises like that but something simply rang true in her soul with that final statement.

"Thank you, Padmee Na-berry!" Aka rearranged herself so that she knelt directly in front of Padme, "May the suns of Shi and Li shine softly upon you," she brought the queen's hands together between her own. Aka kissed both sides of their clasped hands, "May the winds of the ancestors always sing your story," the woman released Padme's hands and bent low to kiss the ground before her knees, "May your steps always lead you home," despite Aka's injuries, she wore a beautiful smile as she raised her head and peered up at the Queen, "Thank you!"

"It is my pleasure, Aka. Now, I need to get the medic to look you over and you need to comfort your children," Padme got up and headed over to the door to the guardroom where the medic was waiting. Behind her, she could hear a few quiet words in an unfamiliar language and the quick patter of three pairs of little feet as the children ran to their mother.

"Ma'am?" came the question just as she reached the guardroom door. Padme turned to Aka, who clutched her children closely to her with one arm and retrieved the artwork within reach up off of the floor with the other. She stared at one of the sheets seriously before looking back to Padme, "Forgive me for asking, but you mentioned _your_ portrait earlier. Am I no longer doing the queen's?"

Oops. She sighed.

"Let's get you looked at first. We can talk about that later."

* * *

 **A/N** : Before anyone rants that Aka's question about the portrait being totally out of character for the scene, let me say this. While I do not know any women who have been raped repeatedly like Aka has, I have experience with victims of sexual abuse and abusive relationships. There is no one universal mindset for a rape victim. Sometimes, people who go through great emotional, psychological and physical trauma seek to distract themselves from the reality of the situation. Aka's life has just been turned upside down. She is trying to distract herself with the two things that give her happiness in her life, her children and her artwork. She is also trying to probe Padme's character, seeing if the commission for the portrait was actually a lie. Not that Padme realizes this.

I just want to say one more thing:

 **If you have been sexually abused please reach out to someone. I know that there are times when it feels like you are unlovable. I know that there are times when it feels like it is your fault. Please know that this** _ **is not true**_ **! There are always people who love you, who believe in you, who wish to help. Some may not even know you yet, but are still waiting for those in your situation with open arms to catch you when you fall and lift you back up. The first step is to talk to someone, anyone: a friend, a family member, a doctor or a police officer. They are there to help you. The first step is always the hardest. You can heal and move forward. There is always hope!**


End file.
